


Designing Crossroads

by Cookie_Queen



Series: Cartography [1]
Category: Life with Derek
Genre: Briskly-Paced Burn-ish, Casey-Centric, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27422935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cookie_Queen/pseuds/Cookie_Queen
Summary: "I think there are crossroads in our lives when we make grand, sweeping decisions without even realizing it. " - Jodi PicoultIn this top-sy turvey world, where Casey is tragically bad at pursing, and Derek is even worse at running away.
Relationships: Casey McDonald/Derek Venturi
Series: Cartography [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2045897
Comments: 89
Kudos: 55





	1. A Messy Plan

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RollyPratt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RollyPratt/gifts), [UntoldGalaxies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UntoldGalaxies/gifts).



> I've been working on this for a full year and I finally got my shit together to finish it! Thank you RollyPratt for encouraging me to write at all (and both you and UntoldGalaxies for your beautiful writing).
> 
> Thank you to 04Jetta for the quick Beta!!! I really appreciate it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been working on this for a full year and I finally got my shit together to finish it! Thank you RollyPratt for encouraging me to write at all (and both you and UntoldGalaxies for your beautiful writing).
> 
> Thank you to 04Jetta for the quick Beta!!! I really appreciate it.
> 
> EDIT: thank you Binxx for the wonderful moodboard!

Casey has never been crazy, contrary to… well, popular opinion. Manic? Yes. Uptight? Yes. A Micromanager—okay, the point’s been made.

She wants the things she wants, when she wants them, how she wants them. Is that such a crime? Being aware of herself—people spend most of their life waiting to figure that out, and it’s not her fault she was given the gift of confidence. Call it what you want, but it was Self-Esteem™ that fueled her being.

That self-esteem was going a long way in justifying why she was hanging out on her balcony in the skimpiest white bikini in November. She needed to sunbathe a bit, she was telling herself over and over again, while chattering her teeth off.

She pushed her airpods in a little tighter, trying to drown out the cold, but she chose leave the music off. She had to listen when someone would obviously walk in while keeping close attention to the sounds behind her, because eventually he’d stumble upon---

“It’s November Casey,” He deadpanned. She left her sunglasses on. It’s sunny okay?

“I just thought I was getting pale,” Her hands run the length of her arms, over her chest, resting on her stomach. “I’m being safe with the sunblock, but I’ve heard nasty things about self-tanners, but I dunno, maybe I just need some color…” Annnnddd she’s rambling! Giving into the absurd is definitely his thing, so why not?

She clamped her mouth shut, and stretched out, noticing her nipples pebbling in the cold. She swung her head to look at him, and he obviously noticed this, but basically forgot what on earth he was doing, because he didn’t even notice her staring at him.

She gets it’s weird. Maybe he gets it’s weird. She wouldn’t mention it, if he kept looking like he was going to eventually heat her up. Just let him play along for a minute longer, before she ended it. This was her bit dammit, and he did not get to take it from her.

She looked back down, ending the stretch, adjusting the bottom of the left side of the bikini bottom, hoping maybe he’d get the idea of what was going on.

He stood, understandably, frozen in the Ottawa winter.

She lifted her glasses just as choreographed, blinking twice to emphasize how annoyed she was, and her face curled theatrically. If he wasn’t going to make any effort at this point, it didn’t matter the way he was looking at her was pebbling her skin (or was it the cold? Who really knows these things?). She leaned forward, nonchalantly, hoping her hard-earned toned, stomach stayed still for a moment. “Everything okay Derek?”

He was glued to her for another moment, and she was sure he could see right through her, to her intentions and she blushed, delighted. Oh, did little old Casey have such an effect on Derek? Looks like Christmas came early this year!

“Okay then,” She waited a calculated amount of time before pulling a sweater ( _his sweater!_ ) over her head, standing up to display that _no,_ that sweater didn’t cover her ass, and _yes,_ he should be intrigued. She pushed herself up, him watching him slowly come back to himself to roll his eyes at her, not even acknowledging himself basically disrobing her with his eyes, but immediately leaving again when she walked inside back to her room, very privy to him stare at her ass in full and attentive earnest.

Was she keeping score? _Oh you betcha._

All of this? Fairly, old development in very tense story. It started as a small little bit of flirting here. Some intense staring there. Maybe some banter, before really scaling up to pretending there was a water feature in their post-grad school shared apartment. Bad-bing badabang, she was here to lean into the ogle.

It felt like a good point for transition in the timeline of… this thing? Whatever has been going on for basically years between them, and obviously that makes the next step natuuuraaallly to sit outside in the most ridiculous bikini and pretend to tan.

_Look_. It worked in lots of movies! Were those movies slightly higher in rating? Maybe. Were those movies known for unrealistic situations? Shhhhh—

So, it wasn’t necessarily a smart decision, but there’s only so much a girl can take her housemate, slowly glancing under his bangs to trace in her shoulders with his eyes, or double taking when she’s walking around the house in a towel. Or whatever that weird thing he did where he stood there, being hot, and she was supposed to be unconcerned with whatever he was doing. Like dammit, she’s Canadian. He is a _(former)_ hockey player. Let her lust in any way she sees fit!

Casey wasn’t a traditionalist. Feminist through and through, she asked out multiple men in her life and done whatever the hell she wanted with them. She did what she wanted and left those names at the door, and look, she wasn’t being an incredible hypocrite of these stances because he wouldn’t just corner her against wall and do whatever those fucking girls in college used to talk about?

She was big game hunting and wasn’t asking for permission from no-body. Did anyone at this point in her life think she needed direction? She was a lawyer at a giant ass law firm, and she somehow still got the time to dance on the side. She was on top of her shit, and if she wanted Derek now, well, it just made sense that they’d happen… now.

She got her ducks in a row honey! (Yes, Jonathan Van Ness was the voice inside of her head, and extremely well chosen because she knew they’d support her in decision.)

However, she’d been running into a Derek-shaped wall for the last couple months at this point. All those months ago when she got Emily on a Zoom meeting to outline her three-prong strategy and schedule regular tactical check ins, she didn’t expect things to be moving… so slowly. They probably should have been at the “regretful drunk encounters” point rather than “deep pining”. She liked pining, but they kind of had been doing that most of their lives, and she was ready to figure out what the hype around his dick was.

She was under no delusion of what kind of person Derek had been in relationships—she didn’t judge him for it… mostly. Could he stand to bring less women into their college apartment? Yes. Could the women he brought in perhaps not use her nice soaps in the morning? Maybe. Should she not have shooed them out looking like a jealous roommate? Once again, shhhhh—the point was that she thought this would be fast, and she’d be able to regulate timeline.

Instead, every time she remotely looks like she’s taking her clothing off, Derek finds something particularly interesting on TV or a need to go to the gym. He was an assistant coach nowadays for the Ottawa Hockey Team ( _Note: look up team name),_ so she assumed he’d have opportunity to do things like that… during work, but who was she to know if that was a real job or not?

And on top of that, Sam tended to drop by… a lot more often than he used to. At first, she thought that Sam’s marriage might be hitting some pressure from that two to three-year point, but Carla was always a delight, so she wasn’t sure why he had to be sitting on their couch watching the game, when he could be on his own couch and she could be dry humping Derek’s brains out on hers.

Either way, nothing was happening!! She threw a hail marry today with that little swim suit debacle because she was getting kind of desperate. A ~~girl~~ woman can only take so much! Cuffing season has started, and she was still, well, trying to cuff someone in a white bikini in November. She immediately changed into some sweats and huddled under her blankets because who the hell wears a bikini in Ottawa during the winter?

She was smarter than this—remember, she’s a lawyer at a fancy firm, on track to becoming a junior partner at thirty-two, and ya know, all her ideas are normally brilliant, and one bad idea to come out of months of brilliance shows just how good her opponent is, honestly.

Like, she started with undressing in the kitchen, cuz she thought he’d be turned on by the domesticity of it all. She _accidentally_ got a little sauce on her shirt, oops! She just had to pull her perfectly curled hair to the side, and get her shirt off in case it stained. She waited for a reaction, but the man who was previously eating all the cheese, and waiting to plunder the pan the moment she looked away, immediately high tailed out of there, and instead she received a shirt thrown at her. She stained her nice lingerie for that move, and she didn’t appreciate that its sacrifice wasn’t appreciated.

Another time during the summer, she put on the tightest pair of leggings she owned and a nice sports bra (both selected via the Emily-Casey standing meeting), to “do some stretching” in the living room. In front of the TV. While he was watching. She was sure that was going to have her shoved against the wall. She was willing to let him rip her clothing off!

Instead, she stretched for about seven minutes when a knock on the door introduced Sam. He popped in and out popped Casey because someone was going to appreciate her outfit, even if it was the woman who fed pigeons in the park. Unsurprisingly, a shirt was thrown at her again by Derek on her way out.

She tried to get him drunk, but she also got drunk and Derek was a nothing less than a gentleman. It both made her proud and incredibly horny because _fuck he’s responsible, that’s so hot._

These were good ideas! Her old boyfriends certainly thought so, but it turns out that Derek was more elusive than her college and law school boyfriends.

She had to reassess her plans, so she scheduled back to back meetings with Emily, and they reformulated goals. Rather than “get Derek into bed”, they start smaller with “get Derek to see Casey as a sexual being.”

So under the strict guidance of Emily, she began wearing his clothing around the house. Nothing like in high school where it was just whatever she could find, no. She wasn’t a child who didn’t realize what it means to wear someone else’s clothing?! Emily had suggested very specific pieces that she stole out of his laundry basket, which was why she ended up posing in JUST one of his button ups and a pair of lacy panties.

He came home from the gym, and said something about how annoying their neighbor’s daily packages were to traverse, and she kept her gaze in the book she was holding upside down. He had stopped talking all of a sudden, and she glanced up to look at him.

He was slacked jawed, and his eyes darkened pretty quickly when she casually adjusted his shirt to show how obviously she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“Oh hey Derek,” She tried to keep her interest in upside down reading. “You were saying 501’s packages?” She continued, trying to keep her breathing steady, pulling her hands through her hair. It was going to happen!!

Instead he stood there immobile, and she stared at her book longer, and the silence was so solid it literally could be scooped with a ladle and served.

She closed her book and looked up, and he was ogling at her like she was the hottest thing on the planet, and she was pretty ready to feel that way—

“I’m gunna head to the gym ‘cuz I forgot to work my uh, yeah.” And he turned around and left.

The door closed behind him, and she turned to take notes because she was a student of life, and at least she now knew she could elicit some type of reaction in him, even if it was just… leaving?

So as a result, she’d admit schemes got wackier. But what did it take nowadays to get a boy to disrespect you?!?! She definitely had accumulated a lot of evidence on what Derek did and didn’t like, which included the aforementioned white bikini.

She huddled under her blanket, trying to build some heat in her body. She considered walking into the kitchen to get some tea, but she also had such a great walk away, who was she to ruin that mental image? She reached under her bed to pull a white board and a notebook, and jotted down a couple of notes, then sends screenshots to Emily.

**case > em **| _No Update_ |

She sighed, pooling her thick blanket around her shoulders, looking out the window. It was snowing. End of Phase 1. On to Phase 2?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's 78 degrees in November so I don't think it's that odd to sunbathe...


	2. Cry Baby

With all that Self EsteemTM, one would think that Casey was able to bounce back from everything. But alas, even our incredibly competent, highly brilliant, but misunderstood hottie-with-a-dancer’s-body had her moments of doubt.

The doozy when choosing which professor to write her recommendation letters to law school (she made the sensible choice and went to more prestigious one because honestly, who was she kidding?), her unfortunate decision to finally throw away the blue eye shadow (sadly, the 2000s were over, and it was time to move on), but none of that was anything compared to when her law school boyfriend broke up with out of the blue (and on Derek’s birthday of all days, really, what could she have done better at that point?)

She sometimes dreamed about these moments of doubt and whether she made the right decision, or the reminder of these doubtful moments would suddenly come up at the worst possible times, reminding her of all the worst things that happened in her life. She assumed eventually these tragic moments with Derek would eventually enter this rolodex of bad nostalgia, but she had powered through most of it.

Today, when she woke up extremely late, she just couldn’t.

She looked over at the blinking clock, thinking that she should probably work out or start preparing for the week early, but she wanted to stay in bed and die because that likely was a better use of her time.

She wasn’t just a failure. Months behind a plan, even further down in overall relationship plans, and just so stressed out and horny, she thought it’d be better if she fell off a cliff than continue to exist.

She glanced at her phone and saw Emily had given her a “thumbs down” to her update—a reasonable response to failure. Her pass record was spotless until this stupid, irritating— _Aahhhhhh!_

She turned over and screamed as a quietly she could, into her pillow.

“Hey Casey!” A thump on the door. “You’ve slept all day and I’m bored. If you gotta a cold, lemme know so I can stay the hell away from you.”

She grimaced. Of course. Of course, he’s completely oblivious to everything going around him. What would’ve it taken God to give him like… a sprinkling of self-awareness? Just a little?!?!

“I got a cold,” She called out. “I _will_ infect you if you continue to get closer to my door.”

“Hey now, I’m not trying to get the team sick. You know how upset the good people of Ottawa would be if their team forfeited their match because a certain lawyer decided to go sun tanning yesterday?” He opened the door. “I will move out because I don’t want to be followed around by a mob.”

  
  
She rolled her eyes and dragged herself further into her blankets so she didn’t have to look at him.

“Leave. I can take on the mob alone.” She curled up, trying not to stutter. He smirked, and walked into to leave a mug on her side table. She frantically reached around trying to check for her white board and notebook, remembering she tucked them underneath her bed last night.

“That green tea in the second cupboard.” He said. She flashed him a small grin, and really took him in. Derek was so INCREDIBLY handsome. He always had been, but as an adult, he was such a motherfucking stunner. Despite being in his pajamas at noon, he looked so well-groomed. Just enough of a beard, his hair just well coifed, and god, and how much did she preen yesterday and he just looks like he rolled out of bed looking like that?

This world was just too cruel.

“That isn’t drinking tea. That’s baking matcha, “She took a sip. “Yup, you even make tea taste like dirt. Real skill you got here.”

“Don’t talk to me.” Tiktoks stream brightly from his phone while he ignores her trying to digest filth. She pulls the covers over her arms as she sips. These are her favorite moments. Quiet, sensible, comfortable. She glanced over at him again.

“If you want me to leave, you gotta commit to me you’ll be getting up, kay?” He continued to watch, leaning against her desk. “I don’t want to be told I didn’t work hard enough to keep you alive at your funeral.”

“Do you have someone write jokes for you? You should fire them.” She waited for a minute, then pulled the sides of the blanket together out of instinct. She was barely dressed, with the itzy, weeny, yellow sleep shorts and a highly side boob accessible tank top. And then she sneezed.

“So, you going to admit that sunbathing the day before it snowed was a bad idea?” He quickly looked up from his phone while he kept scrolling. His smugness normally rubbed her in just the right way, but right now, it was definitely pissing her off.

“I stand by my decisions Derek.” She looked over, let his eyes connect with hers. She lifted the blanket, letting her legs come out from under her. She was given long legs dammit!! The least she could do for the world is show them off. She shrugged her shoulders trying to get the strap of her loose tank top to fall from her shoulder. It did not comply.

“Your failures too?” He stopped moving, and she felt it again. The slow-moving touch of his eyes running up her. Hook, Line, Sinker, Caught, ATE—all the that time practicing pouting in the mirror was worth it!! His battle taunt meant nothing when she was winning the war.

“I just think of them as learning opportunities.” She pulled her hands above her head, reaching into a stretch meant to emphasize her bra-free existence before she pulled herself out of bed. She rested on her door, hip jutted trying to make the most of the little fabric that was there. “Derek, get the fuck outta here.”

“You know you love me!” He sang while he sauntered out. She breathed a sigh of relief (because it’s true? because he wasn't lying? because she was?) She then immediately went to the bathroom and freaked out about the state of her hair.

\---

Casey spent the next few weeks avoiding Derek. She wasn’t ashamed, she’d assure you that it isn’t shame that kept her from trying again. Whatever this feeling was, _which wasn’t shame (!!)_ , it was probably closer to contemplation. Every war general needs to reflect on their losses in order to gain their wins—and that was best done outside of the context of the battlefield.

So, Casey spent aggressive amounts of time at the office, drowning herself into whatever work was available. It would be easy to say it wasn’t actually great, but Casey always knew she was a keener. She was getting buzz around the office. The name partner knew the first letter of her first name, and she may just have finally badgered a senior partner into her being her mentor. Would she become a right-hand (wo)man to the woman on top? Find out next time! This time? The more important piece at hand: How to get Derek to break down from whatever weirdly tall horse he happened to be riding on and touch her _finally?_

It was disappointing in a lot of ways to have to sit at the office and try to figure this out, but it wasn’t like the free snacks and coffee hurt… She could manage a little longer living off chocolate covered pretzels and vanilla flavored coffee. She patted her hip looking for her keycard, remembering for the fortieth time today that she had not been able to find her key card that morning.

She had thought of asking for Derek, but she had to stay firm! No outward requests towards friendship. She repeated her mantra: _Only heat! Only lust! Love later!_

Drafty and cold, her desk had a terrible location. She glanced around again, checking she was truly alone. Never can be too sure even if it was six thirty on a Friday. She stood up, and double checked because shut up she wanted to do some suggestive day dreaming.

She shut her eyes for a moment, thinking about Derek coming out of the shower this morning. She was sipping coffee, pretending to scroll through Instagram when peppermint wafted down out of the shower, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a puff of steam and him emerging.

Wavy-curly hair tangled over his eyes, he briefly shook his head. Water droplets spread. A few (the proud, the brave) droplets landed on his chest, and she watched the snake through his well-chiseled body. Being part of the coaching staff for a major sports team did require some maintenance, but because of that, there was also required maintenance to be the roommate of a hottie who was part of the coaching staff for a major sports team. Casey considered increasing her gym time because photoshop must exist for real life and she must just so consumed with her career, she was unaware of it happening.

As he crossed the hall, she recognized she was a little dead inside and considered downloading Tinder just for the ego boost. He gave her a nod, and walked over to his room, and she resisted the urge to take pictures of his back because they live together and maybe it would be weird to have so many pictures of his naked shoulders in her phone?

She giggled, and rolled her eyes. The first time she ever considered Derek to be a real snacc was in college: After Derek had a bad fall on the ice and she selflessly stayed with him to prevent him from dying of a major concussion. One morning, he came out of the shower with the same fresh, delicious feel and she seriously thought about licking her way up his abs just to say good morning. Or hello. Or _bonne nuit_ because it was important to keep up with her language skills.

She didn’t let herself fantasize that much about their college years or before—it’s kind of lame , but sometimes she tortures herself imagining what they would have looked like if she had made a move then. If she had stopped him coming out of the shower back then, what would they look like now?

Would they be… together? Lasted his master’s degree and her law school? Would they be Engag— _Married_?

(Okay, she'll admit she has EXTREMELY LAME fantasies.)

A buzz went off on her desk, and she flipped her phone over, finding a text from Emily.

**em > case **| _Updates?_ |

**case > em** | _He’s still a dumbass._ |

**em > case** | _so no updates_ |

Steps boomed down the hallway behind her closing the book on her thoughts while she quickly slipped her planning note book into her bag. It was about time to be getting home anyways and it was late enough that she could probably an expense a car home.

“And what could the keener be doing here this late?” His voice came booming down the hallway. She could hear his keys jingling against each other, echoing with his loud steps.

What ( _with prejudicial emphasis_ ) the fuck was he doing here?

“Derek? How on earth did you get in here?” He smiled, dropping something from his hand. In front of her face, dangled in front her keycard, and she swiftly swiped it. “Where did you find it?”

“I’m guessing you didn’t notice it sitting in the kitchen this morning.” He leaned on top of her half cubical. Derek was a little too familiar with her office for her comfort, but then again, his handsome face coupled with the fact that he _came_ to pick her up without asking?! She’d swoon if she wasn’t morally opposed to showing romantic inclinations in front of snooty, won't-have-sex-with-her Derek Venturi. (She must remember, she is a baad bitch with only one goal and one goal only.)

As much as she was thankful for him to care (which if he really cared, he’d already jump her already…), WHY didn’t he have anything else to do?!?! DIDN’T ( _what was the team name again)_ HAVE GAMES?!?!

She took a pause from the mental screaming she was politely engaging in to shift her legs against her desk uncomfortably. She didn’t expect to have a real conversation for the rest of the night and had been doing some day dreaming… her panties weren't particularly comfortable.

“Were you planning on coming home Spacey?” He grabbed the last pretzel in her mug, and munched down. “Or was I going to have to set up an intervention meeting here with Donna?”  
  


“Oh, please Derek, whatever are you insinuating?” Casey was always thoroughly annoyed at Derek. But she was even more annoyed at this moment because how incredibly nice would it be to hook up in her office (in a way that affects no one, and would hurt no one!!), but this man would not even look the other way at her.

“Nothing at all.” He glanced around, then walking towards the windows. He stopped dead in his tracks and gave a whistle. “Quite the view. Damn, it makes sense you hanging out so late like this.” He leaned against the glass, and she took the opportunity to scramble the rest of the post it notes she written on into her purse.

“Let’s go.” She said firmly. The lights, the night, the emptiness—she did not actually want to hook up in her office, but whatever was in the air right now was making it awfully tempting. She felt a calming moment when she looked up at him staring outside. If this was the rest of her life, she realized, she would be extremely happy.

But she knew this. She had known this for years. It’s why she let him move in when he found a job in Ottawa after he finished his coaching master’s in Vancouver. It’s why they don’t introduce each other as step-siblings to others. It’s why her neighbors thought they eloped when he moved in. And she was always okay with what they had, until now.

“Whoever said I was driving you home? I got things to do.” He pulled his phone out of his back pocket dramatically. She allowed him to have a moment. She didn’t question for a moment what was going on here.

“I know you showed up because you want to film a Tiktok dance here,” she sighed exasperatedly. “If I film it, can we go?”

“You’re the dancer. You should get in it.” She needed to get out of this place as soon as possible!! His extremely well defined shoulders didn’t have control of her, and she needed to get control of herself.

“No.”  
  


“Please.”

“No.”

“PULHEESE.”

“De-rek!”  
  


“Ca-sey!”

“Fine.”

She was a dancer, and look, if she could use the moment to regain some kind of pride that was currently slipping out into her underwear because she was weirdly turned on by all of this, she’d use it. Also, if her blazer came off to show off her shoulders… why not, more reason to throw her body in his face!

Thirty very frustrating minutes later, their coats were put back on, and while the video was uploaded using firm wifi ( _“this feels like we’re stealing, Derek.” “I’m stealing, you’re aiding and abetting, so no worries. There is less jail time in it for you.”),_ they were in the car on the way home.

“If you just got your own car maybe you’d already have been home by now!” Derek flashed a grin towards her, while she sullenly leaned against the window.

“Maybe if you recognized you were a grown man with a master’s degree uploading content to an app made for teens, you wouldn’t be called old in your comment section.” He mocked hurt, his hand against his chest. “Anyways, we got public transport here and that’s better for the environment. Something you’d know if you spent any real time on Tiktok.”

“You gotta keep up with the kids! That’s the only way not to grow old.” He turned his head to focus on the road. “Anyways, now I know you check out the comments. Have you seen those weird thirsty ones?” He laughed.

He didn’t need to know that she had multiple accounts and liked his videos so he could feel some little sense of pride. He also didn’t need to know she was the one asking for him to take his shirt off.

“Anyways, why my office building? They couldn’t have been in the locker room after whatever you do during practice?” She looked over at him.

“There’s a lot of things that you can do in office buildings that are generally looked down upon in a locker room.” He wiggled his eyebrows, and she rolled her eyes hypocritically. He didn’t need to know their brains were both located in the same gutter, at the same time.

They quibbled a bit longer about everything, and she sunk into the momentary pause.

“You know what that reminded me of?” He said slowly while pulling into their apartment building’s garage.

“Our entire lives?” She replied quickly.

“Well, yes, but also that time junior year after—”

“Yeah, the hit on the ice.” She paused. She had just been thinking about it earlier. Should she just divulge her thoughts? That she considered licking his abs during that time. That she wanted to kiss him when they slept in the same bed. That she put those thoughts aside because she was scared of her feelings. “What about that reminds you of this?”

“I don’t know. It just did.” He parked the car in his parking spot, and she popped out quickly so she didn’t push herself on top of him to grind down. Her skirt would severely restrict movement. The throb was unbearable, and now she worried about what on earth was causing her to want him in the garage in front of all of the random other people coming back home. Or in the quiet elevator ride up to their floor. Or in the hallway before their door.

They finally popped in, and they hung their coats. Casey removed her blazer, throwing it on top a dining chair, and then quickly wandering into the living room. The thin spaghetti straps of her satin cami threatened to fall off, and she attempted to encourage them by curving her shoulders.

“So those big plans you mentioned. Was it just doing the crybaby in office buildings?” She pumped her arm to remind him of the dance move as she fell on the couch, and he walked over. He stopped, and she cocked her head to the side while pulling her hair out of a respectable bun. His eyes followed the last effort of the cami strap before it fell over on her arm. Sweeping over her shoulders, and her now more noticeable cleavage, she shivered a bit.

“Lemme get you a shirt. You seem cold.” He approached her closer, but looked away at the last moment.

“I’m okay.” She insisted, ignoring those romantic inclinations coming up again.

“You’ll get another cold.” She suddenly felt like they were having a very different conversation. Her skin trailed goosebumps up and down her arms in the dry air of their apartment, but she felt like a sharp pain, as if she had been stabbed.

“I said I’m okay.” She reached down to save both of the thin, loose straps trying to put away the lust that had been driving her nuts.

He massaged his templates with both his hands while watching her. She grimaced. Was she being too much? Was she being so annoying? Did she read the last decade _(and some)_ wrong? Dread filled her body, poisoning her blood, hearing his silence pumping through body. She felt her eyes filling with tears, and she tried to blink them away.

“Oh Case…”. His voice made that irritating, beautifully deep rough sound. His hand came out, grabbing her arm, pulling her into him.

“You know what Derek?!” She was livid. What was even the point? She was burning where he grabbed her hand, and she isn’t sure if she was angry or just still thoroughly turned on. She pressed her other palm on his chest. “It’s obvious you aren’t interested, because I’m just so unattractive—”

He held her close to her, his cheek touching hers. She shivered slightly.

“What on earth makes you think I don’t want you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not sorry so like do what with that what you will


	3. A Headache Named Casey

Derek’s not… that hard to read. He thinks deeply a few things, but doesn’t think about a lot of things all that much. No (non-Casey related) headaches in his future, his ever-noble and constant goal.

Despite that, you’d be surprised about the depths that Derek can get to—he’s very comfortable with his brand of “man of few real thoughts” and if he does everything to stay on brand, I guess, why not? The kids are all about making sure they maintain consistent a e s t h e t i c, and he definitely enjoys the vibe he’s curated, but honestly? He’s trying to be authentic.

So, he would like to stay on brand and say it quickly: he’s been in love with Casey for longer than forever.

When Derek realized he liked her, he looked at her one day in the midst of their high school life while she scolded him about laundry, or grades, or something or another—and thought, “Yeah, this is fun and she’s hot.”

It was just true—he wasn’t thrown for a loop, he wasn’t too upset about it. He sat with for a moment, and that was it.

What was he supposed to do? Learning there are different… kinds of feelings one can have for their step sister? Even Derek couldn’t lie about that.

He probably couldn’t pretend for long (he was not the actor in the family, and let’s be clear, lying and acting? _They are two different schools of thought_ ), but he was persistent about not telling anyone juuuuussst yet. He wasn’t too shaken by this moment—what did everyone expect of him? Lock himself up? Confess right away? Date women that act like—oh, yes. He did date woman like her.

Derek was always smart, even if he never got the recognition. For the peace, he kind of shoved the feelings down for a majority of high school, and kind of assumed feelings might subside while away at college – and you know what?

Not having to be with Casey every single day made his life easier—and harder.

In college, he craved being around her, and given she seem did not feel the same way—it was better that they didn’t spend all that much time together then. Even if they were in each other lives, they had different friend groups, different schedules, and different worlds. And so he didn’t have to manage these feelings in anyway deeper than they were before.

When Derek realized Casey was likely the only woman he’d love for the rest of his life, it was kind of a life shaking moment. He was reminded of this moment more often than he expected, so when he glanced over at her brooding look out the window, he suddenly felt the same intense adoration he felt then. At the particularly difficult moment during a hockey game his junior year, he attempted to dodge a mammoth on the opposing team—and instead got railed by a wookie of an opponent.

Does he remember this little fight? Not really, but what he does remember being half conscious while someone screamed until she ran onto the ice to check his vitals about thirty seconds faster than any medic.

“Derek, I swear to god, if you die on me right now, I’ll haunt YOU in the afterlife.” She hissed under her breath. “Don’t you dare leave me right now! Don’t you do it.” Someone tried to pull her arm off of him, and she physically elbowed them. “We’re together—get the fuck off me. I’ll let you know when we’re ready.”

He came out of it really quick after that moment. Bleary eye’d, he pushed himself up, and Casey pulled his helmet off to check his pupils with her phone light. A medic finally came over to escort them off the ice and into a medical testing room.

While an actual doctor did all the tests (once again), Casey paced around the back of the room, popping over once the medic would write something down to take a picture of the chart with her phone. Once they left the room, Casey threw herself at Derek.

  
  


“Derek. Don’t you fucking dare try to die on me. You better not leave me like this.” Her arms tightened around his neck, finding her fingers caressing the back of her head in his curly hair.

He was completely frozen for a minute, reacting to whole moment. He wrapped his arms around her small body—a stray thought where he felt a calm drive out his wayward anxieties, insecurities, and anger. A moment where in just the hectic moment of the previous crowd, the medic, everything that just happened—none of it mattered.

That moment, after it passed, after he got home, after he was given a small medical leave from the team; it shook him intensely. Casey started popping up much more often—making a list of things doctors on the internet recommended to encourage better sleep. She invested in black out curtains, weighted blanket, and went as far as sleeping in his bed to check on him. His entire life revolved around her for a couple weeks, so yes, he was the craziest motherfucker, because he actually enjoyed a concussion.

He got to wake up to her smell, got to sleep to her humming, and he spent every moment of his day thinking about how to one-up her—and she would fight him on him on every single piece.

He’d remember it as the color of coral—warm and pink in nature.

One night, she shook him awake in the middle of the night—to make sure he still hadn’t died.

“Derek. DEREK ARE YOU STILL THERE?!?!”

“AArggh, Caseeeeeyy. I promise you if I decide to die tonight, I’ll let you know first.” He tries to turn over, but Casey held him down.

“Don’t make jokes! If I let you die, we’d have to fight over your inheritance—and I need verbal confirmation that you’ll be giving me your CDs.”

“Who even uses CDs anymore?”

“Maybe they’ll be worth a lot of money in the future!” Casey laid down next to him, and pulled the covers above her mouth. Derek made a face and turned over.

“Casey?”

“Yeah—”

She said “they’re together” to that medic—did that mean she wanted to be with him? Did that mean she felt anything to him? He thought a lot about asking her, but just chickened out every single time he had a moment.

“Never mind.”

He, to this day, can’t explain how much he enjoyed those spare weeks. Once he was given the medical approval to play again, they did keep in contact better than before, but it wasn’t the same.

And at that point, Derek was pretty scared of his own feelings.

What was he supposed to do? Pretend the love of his live wasn’t going to be in his life because their parents had a healthy, loving relationship?

What did it all mean at that point? He was too much of a coward to ask—but it sat at the back of his mind.

They did eventually get to a comfortable place—hanging out together enough to be respectable, but much more often than maybe their parents knew. They hadn’t really mentioned while they lived together during college at any point, and then his subsequent move to Vancouver for his grad school (under Casey's insistence he should go) while she went to Ottawa. And when he made efforts to find his way back to Ottawa, and _just happened_ to find a way back to living together (by having no second option…), he only mentioned to their family they were living in the same city again.

Did the parents really need to know?

He had some fantasies about their time together and what they’d do—sure their bodies pushing up against each other, and the look of pure disgust through her lashes peering down on him was fodder for countless nights, but he’d also think about what they would fight about in the future, and what they’d be willing to have ( _great sex, distant family relationship_ ) and let go of ( _keener-ing, messiness, drama queen-ness, lying_ ).

But he found himself reminding her (and himself too) more often than necessary about that moment on the ice—and it was like he saying “I love you” even if she didn’t understand… yet.

He thought a lot about it especially when he pretended to drink coffee in their dining room while she sat with their ( _half)_ brother who has her eyes, but his hair already, he wondered what this all means for him. Would their kids look like Simon’s siblings? Would Simon get confused about these kids? He’d never ask her these questions ( _Would you be willing to coach her through the freak out?),_ nor did would he question how much he’d want more little kids running around, with his hair and her eyes. Or her hair and his eyes.

She swung her hair over her shoulder while Simon’s small hands grasped for strands – and his eyes flicked up to her while she kept reading the picture book. She gave him a small smile when Simon breathed in her hair.

If this was their life, it occurred to him, he’d be pretty damn happy. He thought he’d be the luckiest sad sack in the whole fucking world.

After developing a pretty intense caffeine habit, he wasn’t so scared – the idea that player of all, lord of lies, man of every fucking hour, wants to lay it all down and live that particular moment over and over again because f-f-eelings—it didn’t shake him.

But you know who it would be scary for?

It’s not like she’s known to over think everything.

He likes to think about his own journey to his feelings. It’s something that he chronicles in his head, as if it was a flat line, which suddenly has been thrown for a loop when Casey decided that trying to seduce him was the best decision now. It was the only piece which kept him sane throughout this was reminding himself that he loves her, and he cannot just give in so simply.

He was unaware when she pushed him to get his master’s. He didn’t necessarily completely understand it when she let him move into her spare bedroom, but the first time, she began to undress in the kitchen, he saw her coming from a mile away and high tailed it quickly out of the apartment. The thought of having her was strong enough he had to sit outside in the hallway for a moment, fighting himself on what was on the other side of the door. He was so riled up, he had to check into a hotel.

Then she tried again. And again. And given that he might be making money, he couldn’t squander it on staycations in his own city, so he invested in a gym membership instead. He had to figure out a different situation, which included always having someone around, or just being disgusting in general. As much as he wanted to fulfill the list of every single fantasy he’s had since he was seventeen—

(He’d say that his favorite one is complicated and requires her flexibility, but he’d be lying. He just wants to be held her while she said his name slowly _againandagain_ —breaks it in half, her hip hot in his hand while her leg is thrown over his thigh, locked together like they fit.)

As much as he wanted, he did not want her in _just_ a moment of passion the way she seemed to want him.

Casey, who normally is gifted with virtue of _long-term vision,_ has all but left the chat and whoever has decided to stick around doesn’t really want to talk.

Would it be too hard to just say “Hey, I have feelings for you? Let’s have an adult conversation about what this feels like”? Well, it’s not super normal, but when has Casey ever been “normal”?

Instead, he received the Casey who has been “Hey step-bro”ing him up and down the apartment for a quick night, and you know, who would have thought that porn in real life wasn’t fun? _Maybe—does she watch that kind of porn? Fuck, that’s hot._

(He’s assured that anyone else in his position would do the same and allow themselves to be seduced because have you seen Casey?! She’s so hot that he had to literally create a new scale of what consists of hot, and sadly, he didn’t rank at the top anymore.)

As much as he’d like to delight in this change in behavior, Casey was becoming a complicated obstacle to wrangle in the Derek-Casey dynamic. Derek had years to come squabble out his feelings—and even though he had no plan to communicate those ideas, he’d put the work in to wade through those feelings. Casey would be so proud! If she had any clue idea what she wanted out of this experience!

Derek had always been there to protect Casey, and at this point, he was protecting her from herself. And himself. And everyone else that could possibly be involved.

If he gave in, and they had (wild, get-it-on, _finally)_ sex, she’d freak out eventually and… he guesses they’ll see each other once in a while during the holidays at their parents’ house. It would be awkward. One night… as alluring as it could be, just wasn’t worth losing her like that. Maybe they’d get down to business there too—but it’d would never be more than that. Step-friends with benefits are things that happen in the (adult) movies, and the world they were living in, he thinks, is still somewhere close to real life. Maybe. He’d have to double check.

So, he had to plan.

What a refreshingly Casey move. It mostly involved him working more, working out even more, hanging out less, and having more than a modicum of self-control.

Having Sam around has been a nice. Having a nearby gym was a godsent. Having a job was a miracle. And learning self-control while in college—well, that was all Derek.

He kept to the basics—trying to bother her in the most overt and over the top way, maintaining their dynamic so no one (i.e. Casey) got hurt. He let his eyes wander because no one said that eye candy wasn’t allowed when protecting the love of your life. (And if she was ignoring him, maybe he’d swipe her keycard so she would have to engage with him…)

ANYWAYS, even Derek couldn’t Derek this up with these rules in place—until he completely Derek’d this up when “Why on earth do you think I don’t want you?” shot out of his mouth at the worst moment possible.

Why would she know?! It’s not like he’s been trying to manage his feelings (and her feelings) for the more than the last 10 years for this specific reason!!!

But yeah, this was all going so swimmingly right now— _just peachy._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what a soft boi


	4. Caseyin' Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite the fic being for Rollypratt / UntoldGalaxies, this specific chapter? For Binxx. Thank you for your wonderful moodboards.

“What on earth makes you think I don’t want you?”

Casey stared at Derek, gaping at the mouth. She heard even if she knew it was a mistake from how he averted his eyes, but she’s close enough to know that he wasn’t lying. They’ve been in each other lives to know that they wouldn’t joke about this. He pushed her away from him, his legs already ready to run—why did his body have to catch up to his brain?!

She had at least expected him to kiss her at this point, if not slam her against a wall and just finally, finally let go, but instead he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose for a moment too long.

“We’re barely into this conversation, and we’re already in flames.” He pushed her to an _uncomfortable_ arm length’s distance, and then reached to stuff his wallet into his back pockets. “—need to go, a minute to think.”

“What are you talking about?” She shoved his arm off of her, then suddenly remembering Emily encouraged her to cross her arms to highlight her chest. “I’m giving you time to think here—but really, what’s there to think about?”

“Look.” His hands clap together in front of his face. “I’m not so well acquainted with the brand of Casey that you’ve been—Caseying around—” he ran a hand in his hair, “And yeah, I’m not saying I don’t want,” down his cheeks, “I just, don’t think, I mean, I’m just not sure if this—”

She saw him sputtering in his mind—trying to come up with the words, trying to speak through, and surprisingly enough, it stroked her lizard brain. She made him basically unable to think, let alone speak, and it must just infuriate him that she had this effect on him. His lips pursed, his throat bobbed, his nose flared—it was a recipe for heinous disaster, but… also everything she wanted out of life.

Casey launched herself at him. Fuck protecting his fragile male ego and letting him pretend he doesn’t want her. Fuck their unresolved tension and their ability to just seething at each other across the room. Fuck it, she wanted him, and she’s waited too long.

She pushed her lips against his, grabbing at him with anything that she can hold, nearly toppling them over, while he stumbled back against a wall.

Fuck a spark, it was goddamn lighting. But they’ve known that since they were fifteen and she doesn’t want to have a real feel-good family moment right now.

Really, her ( _their)_ family is the furthest thing from her minds.

His hands rested on his shoulders, trying to push her away, but she had always been faster to the draw. Her hands grasped quickly, one pulling and massaging at the hair at the base of his neck, the other pull his waistband into her. She bit his lower lip, and sucks harder. She flicked her eyes up to meet his. The pressure on her shoulders softened, but it isn’t until she sucked at his lips, that he throws enough restraint to the wind.

She pretty much fought her way into his mouth, and he wasn’t going to let anything else happen without engaging his own defenses—her tongue lightly brushed against his, and slowly retreated while her hand dipped two fingers into his waistband to pull them in closer, and then fanned her hand daintily against his stomach. He twitched a bit in response, but she left her hand against, in defiance.

His hands slowly drifted up to her face, slowly cupping her face, while he swiped his tongue against hers. Lightly at first, but more strongly when she tagged back.

They break for a beat, breathing shortly, but a little harsher than planned. His eyes racked over her form, her eyes wild, dilated, her smirking lips puffy with pink lipstick askew, and he tried to regain thought, but she once again didn’t leave him time, pulling his shirt to her, pull him down again.

Was he getting lost? Did he know she was here? It was her, Casey MacDonald. Ruler of the land. Getter of what she wants. Whatever she wants.

“ _Derek, please—"_ She whispered against his lips, trying to remind him. It is not anyone else, it is her. Her that wants him, needs him, _don’t forget don’t forget_.

He groaned. At this point, he’s seeming rearranged many of “major events” in her timeline, and really, she’s not above begging, her hand quickly running down his buckle, _god—_

“Fuck. Casey, you gotta know I—” He languidly dragged his tongue against hers. His hand scaled down her shoulder, caught her hand, pulling it behind her, holding her wrist in three fingers ( _were his hands always this big?_ ), while tapping his index and middle on the small of her lower back.

Casey wondered what Derek thought about when watched her—so intensely, but distanced. She wanted to remind him of what it was like to burn under his gaze. How she felt, what it made want to do to him. She thought it was just scorching to be seen by him. Casey craved that feeling, constantly, always. She would wear a bikini in November for that feeling, but this? But this was so much better.

She felt her skin wrinkle in heat everywhere—starting just under her jaw, and it throbbed along with the taps in rhythm he has going against her back. Was this a song he liked? Was it a song she liked? _Morse code?_

His touch began maddening, her mind trying to catch up with the melody he was trying to explain to her. She tried to match his heat with her tongue.

She had just one hand on his shirt and grasped— _This is happening, and it’s Derek, and he’s here with her._

She kind of imagined it to be awkward, but they fit together like a lock and key, suddenly and assuredly. She kidded herself for years, calling it a silly crush for the ages, but it was always going to be him, and it was just a matter of time until they got their shit together.

Maybe the induced fit model makes more sense….

He broke the kiss, and tipped her head up to lick his way down her neck—she hissed, and a familiar feeling pulled deep in her stomach.

He was pressed against her so tight—his heat melted into her, and she felt it dissipate all over her body. She searched for his mouth and kissed back recklessly, struggling against his hold on her.

When she felt his hand raking through her hair, she trailed her free hand to the hem of his shirt. He pulled her hair to angle her face, and she opened her eyes to see him look back at her. His brown eyes were full blown out, completely dilated. She shivered.

Did she look the same? Did he see her? Shameless, out in the open. Did he know what he was doing to her? Reducing her to a pile of feelings she didn’t want or need, but constantly came back to—she gave a small, shuddering, agitated breath.

He rested his forehead on hers for a moment while she breathed deeply. Her hand struggled with his for a moment. He let go, and she pulled his hand to her hips. He grabbed tightly, then stroked his hand to drift from her waist to her ass. She felt the moan catch in the back of her throat, but then stuttered out. He responded with his own groan. They looked at each other, breathing deeply. She leaned back to kiss him again. If he didn’t get it at this point, she was going thoroughly persuade him.

She thumbed the skin above his waistband again. He tore his lips away from her, but she interlocked with his hand on her ass. She squeezed his tight, hoping for she could communicate her thoughts.

_I want you I want you, want you, want you. I lo—_

He stared into her—his puffy, pink lipstick-stained lips, his messy hair, his red-tinted skin and suddenly, this wasn’t enough for her. There was such an urgency to pull off her clothing and let whatever happens, happen. All that burning concentrated deep behind her navel, but purposely strayed, dropping lower and lower, until she felt a physical need to move as fast as possible.

Did they have time? Maybe. Did she want to spend that time well? _Wasn’t a wall nearby?_

“ _Derek, keep going,”_ She breathed against his lips, while hitching her own skirt up—she placed two of her fingers at the edges of her panties to pull them down, dragging his hand down her hip. His eyes widened to the exposure of her purple panties, and his hand stiffened. “ _I need you, this, no—”_

He immediate released her hand, and used his free hand to push her away. She went stumbling backward, falling on the couch.

“What the fuck Derek Venturi!”

“No. Nope. No, we didn’t just, this isn’t how it should, no no no no.” His mouth babbled on. He tapped his back pocket to check for the wallet, while running his hand through his hair. He looked over at her hand tangled in her own panties. “God, Casey, you can’t do—you gorgeous, beautiful fucking—no no no no, not like this—” He gave her once more look over and gave a shuddered sighed. He bent down and gave her a small, chaste kiss.

Then, turned around and ran out the door.

“De-rek!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have multiple hot takes - please react as if these are here individually because I couldn't choose how to be quirky
> 
> -pacing? Is that some kind of condiment?  
> -this is my submission for no nuance november. no further questions  
> -it's the making a biochemistry joke in the middle of stepsibling romance fic for me  
> -how ~q u i r k y~ Casey


	5. Mess Realized

Casey was speechless. So close to exactly what she wanted, so intensely turned on, but slapped in the face in her haste. She pulled off her panties, throwing them in rage.

She trailed one hand against the outside of her thigh—she licked two fingers, trailed it down her hip, closing her eyes. She saw his wild eyes, her lip stick all over his lips. His heat radiating on to her body—she slithered a hand under her shirt and bra, while the other stroked herself.

She thought about his large hands. With little hesitation, his hands held onto hers. She imagined his hands stroking at her. She squeezed her breast tightly.

His hand would cover her whole breast, and his rough callouses from years of hockey would make some delicious friction. She stroked faster, then inserted a finger into her body. His face, so affected by her—squeezing his face because he can’t believe it’s come to this point. She tucked another finger in, placing a thumb on her clit.

“Casey, want you,” he said before he’d kiss her. She groaned, imagining what it would feel to have his fingers so far into her, moving quickly.

She imagined him pinching her nipple just to see her face contort. “God Case— “, he breathed against her.

She rotated her thumb against her clit, and she saw his face. She pulled what she could of his shirt so she could run her hands over him. He pulled close to her, adding pushing with more force across her clit, his eyes flicking down, and groaning.

“What on earth makes you think I don’t want you Casey?” He guttered out against her ear.

“Want you so much, want you so much, you gotta know,” he chanted. She felt the tightness coil deep in her stomach about to break, and she bit her lip.

“De-rek!” Her voice cascaded bounced through the empty apartment.

After she came through, she searched for a pair of pajama pants in the pile of nearby laundry, popping up to run to the bathroom.

She sat on the ground afterward leaning against the couch confused for a minute. Was that a normal reaction? Should she have cried? Waited to masturbated? Celebrated? His acceptance then refusal, but then rejection—none of this was in her detailed plan! They would be behind schedule, and she wanted to be able focus on getting a promotion at work once she was finished with this. SHE HAD TO REVISE MULTIPLE PLANS NOW.

Casey had read an article on deep breathing techniques, and took a five-minute breather to breathe, and then placed her phone on the floor to call Emily.

“Casey, now isn’t a grea—“

_-inhale-_

“I am shared on all the online docs, and I get email updates every day, so I am up-to —“

_-exhale-_

“Also, you didn’t text back earlier—”

_-inhale-_

“And I know I was talking about being up for that award, but honestly, I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, but it also is a giant deal—"

“Soooo we made out.”

Casey waited a beat, where a lot of hectic movement and crashing sounds rang into the living room.

“Tell. Me. Everything. What are you wearing right now? What was he wearing? Everything you hear me—“ In the distance background, a voice called for Emily. “Give me 5 babe, we’ll get back to it soon!!!”

Casey ignored and continued, “We are on schedule, right? Like, this was week five of taunting, and I am hanging out in that tiny black skirt we bought together after work, trying to get the straps of my cami to fall off when he tries to keep me warm by getting me a shirt.”  
  


“Mhmm...”

  
  
“And something changed. It felt like he was rejecting me, and I just couldn’t take it.”

“Mmhm.”

“So, I’m just starting to tear up and I said something like, obvious I’m not that attractive and he doesn’t really want me because nothing is working and Derek hugged me.”

“Yes..?”

Casey paused. “ _What on earth makes you think I don’t want you?”_

An otherworldly screech came through, and Casey flipped her phone over, staring at her Harry Styles phone case for a minute. Emily was the force needed in this world for a lot, but maybe she chose wrong for her accomplice.

“And...? And?”

“We made out. Hard made out. But, before I got his pants off, he left—but we made out, so that’s good, right?”

“He RAN? What?”

“He said something about Caseying too hard, and grab his wallet and left.”

“And you are taking this—are you okay Casey?”

Was she going into many details? She wandered into the kitchen considering that was the reality of her life. “This seriously threw a wrench in my schedule. We weren’t supposed to be here until next week.” She sighed raiding the fridge for baby carrots. “I guess it’s just... awkward?”

“So, your schedule was moved up—that’s all good, right?” Emily waited a moment. “So we’re closer to “I love you’s” or…”

The phone sat silent on the counter.

“Casey, I need you to recognize that you are a planner, but being an extremely shitty one right now.” Emily whispered into the phone. “You need to plan for past the point of falling into bed.”

“but—”

  
“Casey, I’ve gone over the story multiple times of how seeing him get hurt basically made you realize you loved him. You’ve been in love with Derek for so long that it is practically part of your personality. Perhaps telling him before you jump him—”

“Yes, but this is the fun part and that’s the boring part.”

“You spend so much time with the man, you sound like him.”

“Take that back! You know damn well that I taught him everything he is and what he could be. I don’t sound like him, HE SOUNDS LIKE ME.”

“Okay, I’m going to table for now, and we’ll come back to it.” Emily said. “Don’t you have “awkward” planned in for after the make out sesh next week—and doesn’t this prove that he has feelings for you? Like I told you years ago?”

“Hey now, he may not like me, but I am also a living, breathing fem-“

“BANGING being who is more complicated than complicated. If he didn’t want you, he’d never give in, let alone make out with you, hard. It was a hard make out, right?”

“He pulled away because I couldn’t get my underwear—“

“Casey—“

“Why doesn’t he want me? He said he did. But he won’t stick to it—I just thought it was the right time, you know?” Casey wasn’t really one for pity parties ( _she means real pity parties!)_ , but man oh man, this was a low. She broke into angry tears more often than anything. BUT to do this?! She sank to the tiled floor in the kitchen. “What’s wrong with me that he won’t be with me? Am I just a lying to—“

“Casey.” Emily said firmly. “Breathe. In and out, okay?”

“O-k-kay.” Casey shuddered out, breathing between carrot bites.

“Also. Don’t you dare talk about my friend like that! I love you, but you spiral so quickly. Let’s not pretend you aren’t gorgeous. You. Are. Hot. Af. This is my opinion as a woman who likes women, and not as your best friend. Stop with the pity party.”

“Mmh.” Emily was right!

“The Casey MacDonald I know doesn’t let little things like Derek’s inability to grow up get in the way.” Emily was also the right choice on who to call!

“Yeah.” Casey stuttered for a moment. “Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Casey, I am always rooting for you, but I have known Derek for longer than you—I literally dated him. He’s always been into you. Just maybe approach this more gently, okay? Throwing yourself at him might not be the best approach, after doing it for the last… I don’t think he ever anticipated you’d... come around this way, okay?”

“Okay—”

“And for the love of all things divine, please just tell him you love him so I can exit from all project tabs on my browser.”

“Emily, I’m a bad bitch.”

  
  
“I know!”

  
  
“I love you. Get back to bed.” Casey sat for a beat, trying to let all the words literally inject into her blood. “Let’s talk about this mysterious person next time, yeah?”

“Thank thank thank you—will update in the morning.” Emily spilled. “Babe, I am coming!! Bye Casey, good luck!”

Casey leaned against the cupboards. She shoveled a couple of baby carrots into her mouth. She sat with the rejection, letting it infect every part of her body for a good minute and half. Casey played the Harry Styles album once for good measure. Then, she decided to rightfully ignore Emily’s advice, and fuck that boy if it was the last thing that happened on the planet. Derek had no clue what was going to hit him.

_____________

Derek ran to the gym as fast as possible—he’d been keeping an extra gym bag in his car just in case, and it was paying off.

The image of Casey, below him, her own tangled in her panties literally kept him running for 2 hours longer than normal. It wasn’t fair—she somehow knocked down a wall, and her small room in his brain had be renovated to a full house. And the freeloader got to be there rent-free.

After maybe four hours (the folks at the gym had to throw him out), he sat in his car, questioning whether he was going make it because the look on her face, was branded on the inside of his eyelids. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

Was he going to jerk off in the car like a teenager? He was a god damn adult—he paid taxes, he has a full-time job, and he wasn’t going to act like a child.

He glanced around, looking at his surroundings at an empty parking lot. Tenderly he pulled the waistband of his baggy shorts. Closing his eyes, he watched her face.

Her pupils blown, pink lipstick ruined, hair everywhere, shuddering breathing—his hand skimmed her thigh while she pulled her panties off slowly.

“Derek.” She whispered slowly. She had been taunting him for weeks, and the temptation was maddening. He stroked himself a little harder.

“I need you,” she echoed around his brain. Her free hand had been so close to pulling down his pants, but this time he’d let her. He grabbed himself a little tighter.

“Derek.” He didn’t restrain her this time, and she unzipped his jeans, pulling down them urgently. She knelt in front of him—her eyes glanced at him through her lashes. She shuddered her breath. He knew she would when she slowly climbs his boxers off.

She gave him a grin from the floor, her hot breath against his dick, her full luscious lips, her tangled hair, his need to touch her hit a breaking point. He began to feel the pull behind his navel.

“I need you, I need you, I need you—Derek, I lov-“

“Casey!” He grunted.

Great—now he was a grown ass adult who just jerked it to the moment before a blow job. In an empty parking lot, with nowhere to clean up.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into Sam’s driveway—pulling out his key, he slowly clicked it into the door. The light clicked on, and he dropped his bag, and thanked the universe it was the off-season.

He made light work, running into the guest bathroom to take a quick shower because no one needed to see him post-jizz state.

As he left the guest room, a head popped around the corner, and Derek stopped cold.

“Derek? Is that you?”

“Oh My God, Carla, I thought you were a burglar.”

“Says the man who snuck into a house AND took a shower in a house he doesn’t own.”

“Okay—sorry. Didn’t wait for a response after I texted Sam.”

“He let me know—he’ll be back soon.” She gestured him into the kitchen. “Any reason you want to sleep in our house tonight instead of going to your own apartment?”

Derek rolled his eyes and flicked her a look, and she giggled. “Casey is...”

“Casey-ing it up?”

Carla was a wonderful addition to their little friend group—Sam and her met during the later years of college and she very quickly became acclimated to the dynamic. Maybe a little too quickly.

“I am about 30 seconds away from moving to Newfoundland— “

She snorted. “Those are some reeeal strong words for someone who literally found a job with the hockey team in the same city as Casey’s law practice.” He rolled his eyes again.

“Ugh. Sam tells you too much—I need to rewrite a best friend contract on what he can share with significant others.”

“Well, we know the lawyer who’d write it up.” She giggled again. Derek rolled his eyes again. He opened the fridge to grab a beer. “So, I don’t know exactly what is going on—" Derek raised an eyebrow, “okay, okay, I know because Sam can’t help he is a blabber mouth.” Derek sighed closing the fridge. “Either way, Derek, I kind of... don’t know what is the problem is. You’ve liked her since you were a teenager—and now she’s reciprocating those feelings. Why aren’t you going for it?”

“If anything about Casey was that easy, we’d be the ones with a house in the suburbs.”

“Would you like me to talk to her?” Derek’s face gave a look of fright. “I am not one to meddle, but if you want me talk to talk to her—”

“Carla, what is the number one rule of the Derek-Casey dynamic?” Derek turned around to see Sam popping through the door. She smiled at him, popping in for a kiss while he pulled her into a hug.

“Don’t get involved.” Carla said exasperated.

“Just be happy Sam,” Derek took a sip, “She doesn’t meddle like Casey.” He turned back wading through the fridge.

“Oh god, I got enough of that more than 10 years ago.” Sam shuddered. “So, Derek, what did Casey casey up this time?”

“Uh,” Derek stammered, glancing quickly at Carla.

“You already know that anything you tell Sam will eventually get around to me. I’d love a first-hand account for once.” Carla settled at the counter with Sam pulling out a bag of popcorn from the bag he was carrying.

“Fine. But you two need to get out more—my life is not cinema.”

“Out with it, man,” Sam popped onto a stool.

“So you know that Casey has been caseyin—“

“Yes yes, she’s been trying to seduce you with the clothing and the towels and the beach and that song about watermelons, but you are being chivalrous because you have more than ideal intentions.” Carla quickly listed.

“And you know...” Sam defended, his hands gesturing randomly.

“Well, it just got too much today—and I just let a lot out.” Derek places his beer down. “It got heated, and I just said, something.”

“That being?”

“Not important.”

“Counterpoint: Important to the narrative we tell your children one day.”

“Derek, how bad was it?” Sam sighed.

Derek sighed. He waited a moment. “We made out.”

They stared blankly at him.

“We got kind of lost for a bit, but, uh, I just didn’t want to hurt her in the long run, so I had to pull her off of me—and uh, and then I ran out.”

Carla and Sam gave each other a look. Carla jumped up, turning to run upstairs.

Derek cocked his head to Sam. “She’s not calling Casey.” Sam cracked a smile. “She’s calling Emily.”

“Oh my god. Why don’t you make a group chat?”

“Uh, I don’t know how to tell you this, but we did.”

Derek pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.

“Derek,” Sam drew out a breath. “We have a weekly video chat.” He pulled out his phone and opened his calendar. An event in red popped up: “Derek/Casey: Weekly Discussion”.

“Marti has an online document spanning years of your relationship, and the weekly phone call started when you all went to college. It was the only way to keep track.”

“Wait, what?”

“Your siblings are really invested in you two getting your shit together—I can’t promise there isn’t money somewhere.”

“And no one was going to tell me?”

“Well, you never asked…”

“Why would I have to ask?” Derek shook his head, scandalized by the notion. “You all have been doing this for years and you didn’t think I’d like to know?”

“They weren’t sure you all actually liked each other...” Sam clambered quickly. He sighed, “Look, I mostly took part to prevent those kids from being overeager and locking you two in a room together.”

“It’s nice to know that the whole world has an opinion on whether Casey and I get our shit together.”

“It was all in good fun.” Sam smiled looking back at the stairs, “Although, I wouldn’t call it an ‘opinion’.” Derek blinked for a moment, “More like... the universe is negotiating on the timeline for when to get you two get your shit together.”

Derek stood for a moment, dumbfounded.

“The reason I tell you this now, Derek, well—we all kind of figured it out and are waiting for you two to figure it out. And Casey is obviously not waiting anymore. So, what are you waiting for?”

Quick footsteps thundered.

Carla came clambering down the stairs, holding her phone like a weapon.

“What. The. Fuck. Derek” Carla gritted. Sam held her back.

“Hey now,” Derek raised his hands in front of him. “I can’t do that to Casey and expect that we’d be good afterward. Casey doesn’t know what she wants, and look, what if we try and it doesn’t work?”

“Carla, he knows he’s being irrational.” Sam muttered. “He’s been doing this for years.”

“You love her?”

Derek looked away and grimaced.

“Derek.” Carla said softly. “If you love her, you can’t protect from the possibility of you two together.” She leaned into Sam. “You know Derek, I really shouldn’t be the one telling you this, but you are allowed to have this. Don’t be scared of being happy. You don’t have to protect her anymore. She’s a big girl.”

Sam stood up, placing his hand on her shoulder. They gave each other a look.

“Derek, you are always welcome to stay as long as needed, but you should probably initiate the conversation rather than waiting for her to come to you.”

Derek thinned his lips and looked away.

Carla grumbled, and then waved at him with her middle finger. He waved back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh sweetie, no


	6. The Logical Conclusion

Casey pulled a scrunchie into her hair. She connected her computer to a secondary monitor. No good plan was done without a secondary monitor. She carefully arranged the spreadsheet, the word documents, and the browser to be positioned _just so—_ she was going to get this plan right once and for all.

“What are you doing step broooooo,” the sound pierced across her room. Okay, yes, she was finally giving into the scourge of the internet. But how often can porn be used to solve specific situations in your life?

(Casey was not open for comments at that moment. Or ever. Mind your own business.)

She considered that Emily may be right, but then again, searching ‘saying I love you’ in google is much more suspect than ‘how to finish unresolved sexual tension’. If she was to die before the end of this saga, she didn’t want some police officer to laugh at her browser history.

Casey patted herself on the back (physically because there are no participation trophies for achievement), and then shook in anger because she knew Emily was right.

All those years ago, when Derek was decked by that gigantic player, and he fell, her entire body felt like it was falling apart. Like she was dying in slow time, and she was freaking out. Casey was extremely well skilled in navigating a situation with lots of planning, but so much of just getting on the ice to confirm he was okay was just pure instinct. She’d do anything, and lied her way onto the ice to confirm his safety.

She considered this moment when she knew she was in love with Derek. When she thought he might have died, and she knew if she didn’t get to him, he’d die. She invited herself to be his caretaker, and when she realized how truly strong those feelings were, how much they could affect her schedule, she pressed them so far down because she needed to focus on herself and everything she wanted to accomplish. Now was the time, but even at her age, she was still afraid for some reason.

Why did she even keep throwing herself at him? Emily was right that she was an extremely complicated situation so, why would he moved out if he was that bothered by it? But instead he just kept coming back, ignoring it, treating it like just an incidental moment in their relationship to ignore when she was looking. Wow, maybe he did love her.

Casey was elbow deep in post it notes by the time she heard the front door swing open and very softly close. She could imagine his slow barely recognizable, shuffling forward, and—should she turn off her light and infuriate him, or leave it on and infuriate him?

The answer was infinitely clear, so she shut the door as quietly as possible, and sat next to the door with her laptop, to hear him pad through the living room, past her room and down the hallway.

She turned back to her computer, converting the schedule she’d been working on to a white board (Derek might have his chair, but Casey would _commit crimes_ before she let go of whiteboards) into digital copy ( _for Emily’s view, but not edit copy!!!)._ Of course, the large changes had been updated _(make out #1 moved on month earlier, fight #23 is scheduled for next week, fishnet stockings have been ordered)_ , but she was particularly proud of how she was able to sync Operation: Derek, with her promotion plan _(plan promotion happy hour, get too drunk, 1 AM rendezvous)_.

In approximately four months’ time, she would make him a happy man? She’d be ready to say 'I love you' then too if she got Emily to sign off on her long, just heart wrenching speech. If he was still down with all of this, at that point.

She glanced at the clock, realizing how late it was already, and glanced at her to-do list for tomorrow. Even if it was a weekend, an associate (gunning for senior partner by thirty five) did not rest! She slowly napped away her troubles until she… created plans to sleep with her stepbrother so they could live a happy life together.

She sighed, and peeked under the door. There was laundry to gather, and the choice was clear—to sneak or not. He’d already been packed in his room for a while, and her dominant use of her light on clearly intimidated him. What possible could go wrong?

She opened the door.

“Hi.” His tall presence stood at the door frame. Her eyes widened, and she shut the door. The shadow under her door LIED TO HER. If she couldn’t believe her own senses, there was nothing left to trust. “Casey.” His voice vibrated through the door. “Let’s talk.”

Those sweet melodic tones, the timbre of his voice. He—the only object of his own affections—wanted to talk. About his feelings. To her. She took a quick glance of the board behind her, and talking was NOT on the schedule until the new year. She gritted her teeth together and slide the whiteboard under the bed.

She turned and opened the door.

“ _Hi Derek._ ” She tried to casually lean against the door, but stumbled. “It’s late. Why don’t we just leave this until later, and let me—”

“Now seems good.” He smirked pushing through the door. Her lips thinned, and she saw what he was doing—she was not here for it today.

“I have a lot to do in the morning.” She ground her teeth together. “Maybe another time.”

“Well, this—” he leaned in, “ _is”,_ his hand reached to behind the door, pushing it behind him. “ _important_.”

Her mind screamed at the top of her lungs. His stupid ass blue Henley shirt, unbuttoned _‘just enough’_ and his stupid untied pajama pants tied so illegally low. What was the world they were living in? When did they WALK into a porn universe and decide to live there!??!

“I wouldn’t think you thought this was important.” She’d show him. More than two can play this game!!

“I’m serious Casey,” he said. “I want to know…” He stopped, squeezing his fists. For a brief moment, she considered seppuku. “What’s been going on with you?”

“Nothing at all.” She gritted her teeth. She looked through her eyelashes, trying to angle her chest a little further out, through her… bulky sweatshirt.

“Are you sure?” He scratched his head. His eyes darted in all directions, but came to stared into her, and she felt small unravelling of her essence, like he could see her naked. She hugged her chest, avoiding his gaze. “You pull some weird stunts for a couple weeks, and then ignore me for—weeks afterward?”

She breathed. “Derek—"

“Are you okay?”

“Derek, I’m obviously not okay, but seriously, you are the last person I want to talk about this—”

“Oh my god, what the fuck are we even doing?” His nose flared, and he raised a hand to cover his face.

“I don’t know what you are doing Derek, but I’m trying to go to bed.” She seethed, arms swinging up “why don’t just leave and we just forget—”

He grabbed her shoulders. “No—why the fuck are we doing this right now?” She shrunk for a moment, watching his eyes darkened the way she craved. His face was so close to hers, and she just felt so small.

It just wasn’t right. Nobody put Casey in a corner.

  
“You know what? You are the one who always runs away. You want to do this again? Fine.” She said, stabbing him in the chest with her finger. She leaned slowly to his face, pressing up on the balls of her feet. “Fuck you Derek.”

She pushed herself against his lips, roughly biting his bottom lip.

He grabbed her hips to fit himself into her. She had been waiting her whole god damn day for this, and if she just went one more moment of not being… _goal oriented,_ she’d literally explode.

She reached out, her arms already down at the hem of her sweatshirt. She pushed him onto her bed, pulling off her top, then reaching out to his to pull of his. His arms quickly rose to respond to her pulling the off.

He pulled her back, and let their skin drag against each other. She let him situation, while holding a hand firmly set on his abs. _Relish trophies while you can kids._ Casey bit her lip, pushing him further back, kissing down his neck, to his shoulder.

“You!” She whispered against his skin. “ _You dumb fucking idiot.”_ She bit down, and he shuddered. Her tongue drifted across to salve the pain. His hand held tightly onto her hips, thumb rubbing into her ass through her shorts— _holy shit once again where the hell did these large ass hands come from?_

She felt the scrunchie pulled from her hair, and lips met hers again. Mission objective 1? Drown him ( _again!)_. Bruised lips, arrogant tongue, controlled breath. Calculated, but she couldn’t control the shudder come down the back of her spine. A slight touch on the small of her back became more certain, and she leaned into the feeling. His bold strokes, one-two, one-two, and she had to let herself again shiver.

She was determined to remind him, it was her he was losing himself in. She leaned against his shoulder, biting his collarbone. _It’s me ya doofus._ Casey MacDonald, self-declared queen of Derek Venturi’s world. He shifted for a moment, letting out of a soft moan, but let her continue her work. He ran his hands up and down her back, softly outlining her spine.

She ground herself against him—the thin pieces of his sweatpants and her shorts left a million in a million parts to be desired, but if this was what she was going to get from him, this was what she was determined to get. He sat up slightly, coming up to her chest, reciprocating sloppy kisses right on her collarbone. She sighed, slowing her rhythm to a crawl as she felt his cock perk up.

He murmured so softly against her chest. He ran his nose against the slide of her breast, and she pushed herself harder against him so she could feel him tense against him.

“Do you know how much it fucking sucks to live with you?” She says flustered. This wasn’t the plan! This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. “You are the dumbest fucking idiot alive, because I literally have been throwing myself at you for MONTHS, and you always run away. Do you know how fucking long I’ve been needing this?” She placed his hand on her left breast.

He’s quiet for a moment. She ground down harder, hoping that her running mouth won’t get her kicked off of him. The heat in the air was enough for her to get off, but if he got up and left, she didn’t know if she would able to breathe.

“When did it start?” He said, but didn’t let her answer. He pulled her down to kiss her, moving his hand up to hold her jaw. Small, soft, chaste, but grew when he lifted himself to gain leverage against her. She bit his lip again, trying to expedite. He broke away, and she stared him down.

He lifted one hand, lightly placing on the side of her breast. He quickly looked up to her, and she glowered. How dare he took his time!? He quickly then palmed her right breast, lightly rubbing his hand against the nipple.

“I can’t remember not wanting you Case,” He watched her withering while she ground particularly roughly. “I remember us meeting, and I remember other stuff, but when I went from nothing to—,” he shuddered, “…to every single god damn day wanting to tell you how much I wanted you. I don’t remember—when it happened.”

Casey already felt the heated red in her face, but his blown pupils, his lips puffy with infatuation (the color!!), his _fucking marble chiseled_ chest heaving, both of his hands now pinching at her nipples—she was feeling something quickly undoing in the base of her spine. She made a grab for his pants, but he pulled at her hands. He shook his head softly, and she furiously ground down on him. _Stop pretending it’s not happening._ (IT’S HAPPENING.)

She moaned and closed her eyes. Her hands tangled in his stray hairs at the base of his neck. He had truly woken up, and the friction was everything that she thought it might be. Maybe more? She could not be sure.

“That time in high school, that dance competition—I was scared you’d just rub against me in the wrong way, and I just wouldn’t be able to handle it and fuck you on the stage.” He thrusted upward, and she leaned into him as close as possible.

The thin texture of his pants left little to the imagination, and she closed her eyes trying to hit a better spot. The hype? It was _real_. She was riding up a cliff—with just enough help, but _fuck,_ there wasn’t enough fucking friction in the world for this to happen fast enough.

“When I had that hit in college, you were in my bed every day,” he turned his head and whispered into her ear, “I literally had to jack off when you went to class because I couldn’t stand the smell of you everywhere, all the fucking time.” He licked down from her ear to throat. “You once left those fucking Hello Kitty panties in my hamper.” He exhaled slowly. “I still have them. Sitting in my drawer.”

“God, De-rek, I need—” Who thought that dry humping like a couple of teenagers would be just as fun as adults? She was so slick, soaking through her shorts, dripping onto his pants. It almost made her mad because she knew he deepened his voice for her, knew that he was turning on that charm. He kissed down her chest, tongue already fondling her nipple. And god did it feel so good to be on the receiving end of whatever this was.

The heat in the room tripled, and she hoped the dizziness was either caused of her breathing or the closeness, but she’d really be happy if it was just _this_ , all the time. She shifted up, wanting more friction.

“I never thought I’d be this close to you. Enough to just—” her eyes shot open just to watch him smirk his stupid fucking smirk while licking his thumb, and she felt him running down his fingers down the inside of her left thigh, slipping into her shorts, on placing warmth of his thumb right on her sensitive, “—just to touch you like this.”

She jumped a bit in response to his warm touch, squeezing her eyes closed. How the hell did he know what the clit was? She felt an unburdening while he rubbed her, like her skin was no longer hers, and her body was right below the surface, shaking, screaming to be pulled out. He kissed her again, compelling her eyes open, connecting, and his defiant look enraged her while he chuckled at her, and she pulled her against his lips so she didn’t have to look at him watch her.

“No panties, huh?” He breathed, and then groaned. “Casey, so fucking wet. Casey, you are so fucking wet.”

She was in the middle of it, and she teetering so close the edge of forgetting so she ignored him. She wanted to say something like “I’ve been this wet since earlier!”, but her base functions ( _to question, to ask, to quibble_ ) stopped, and all she felt was his breath, his thumb, and his dick literally one layer away. He slipped a finger knuckle deep, watching her as she watched him. She groaned as he pushed another finger in, then pulling in and out. She felt her mouth begin go to slack, and wasn’t sure if she really was alive anymore, or if she was ever alive before this moment.

“Case, how clueless do you think I am?” His voice timbered, vibrating through her body. He pumped his fingers quickly, but shallowly. Sharp, short breaths peppered her bottom lip, she pulled his lips to hers while speeding up, while groaning. It wasn’t enough.

“Deeper Derek. Deeper.” She couldn’t stop herself from saying it. He immediately obliged, pushing in further and pushing father apart. Her hand came to hold his in place, and he sunk in further. She held onto his arm with her hand, squeezing her finger nails into him. It was coming, she was in the middle of something, and just needed to get closer. She felt his arm came to lean up against her hip, while his fingers rashly pushed around her shorts to more firmly hit her clit.

“God you are so fucking ridiculous,” His brow furrowed. “Walking around here, bikini in November like you aren’t fucking with me, touching me like I am no one. Undressing in the goddamn kitchen, walking around in my clothing like we just fucked… like I’m not watching every. Single. Thing. You. Do.” He ran his hand up, and punctuated while his other hand pinched her nipple.

A wave hit.

“De-reek!” She groaned, and she felt her face furrowing. Every tense muscle she didn’t even realize she was holding released quickly, and everywhere he was touching her felt like it was burning a breach, deep into her soul. She felt like she was soaring, and she was falling, and she was released from everything around her.

“We’re not just fucking friends.” He punctuated every syllable, allowing his voice to drop another octave. “If I wanted to be just friends with you, do you think I’d be finger fucking you in your bed on a Friday night when I could be doing anything else?”

She was coming, _urgh_ —it was good, the pushing and pulling and the heat and the rippling of it all. But was it enough?

She gave in, leaning back, spreading out, stretching, spilling out of his hands. Eyes closed, she felt cooled even if her skin was still heated. He still watched her and her eyes flicked up to see him, just below her eyelashes (JUSTLIKESHEPRACTICED).

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” She said, breathing deeply. She blinked, lazily looking at him—Derek was red faced, breathing deeply and just as worked up as she was.

“Casey, you crazy uptight bitch. Expecting me to do everything.”

Completely ignoring him, in one fluid motion, she swung up and pushed him against the headboard. God, it was so good to close his fucking mouth. It was everything and more that she thought it would be. The heat of the room was flaming just about everything about her (her ambition, her passion, whatever the fucking feeling pooling between her legs that just wanted him to _dick down_ ), and he just made her come like a banshee with his just fingers. It was a one for the record book. He was a good boy.

She had just the right treat.

“If I wanted to be friends with you Derek,” She breathed deeply. “I would be willing. But I don’t touch my friends like this.” She reached her hand well into his waist band of those stupid, illegally low, soaked PJs, finding her prize, hard and erect.

He didn’t stop her, grunting and grasping for her bedsheets. His eyes swirled, glancing everywhere until he found her, and she winked.

“But I can stop if you do want to be friends,” She slowly softly stroked the skin just above his cock, “You have to say so Derek.”

“Fuck you Casey,” He reached for her, kissing her again. She continued to stroke, and he reached out for her other hand, interweaving his fingers with hers. They broke apart, and she rubbed her thumb against the back of his hand, smiling.

“Is that a yes?” She waited for a moment, making eye contact while she pulled his waistband lower and lower, allowing her to see what she was doing.

Ooof, it was a prize. Just perfect for someone who loves games. Disgusting in size, but mouthwatering. She wrapped her hand, squeezing with some liberty, and he groaned.

“Casey—” He started, but she smiled. It was time to get as much fucking fun as she could at this point because she had waited so fucking long to watch him get this worked up. She started a slow, lazy stroke. Up, down. Up, Down. Lean in, hot breath.

She leaned down to breathe on him, intentionally, deeply, listening him to fidget. Looking up, his pupils blown wide, normally hazel-brown eyes sinking into a much darker territory, his puffy lips, and skin quickly pinked. She leaned over to kiss him again, position her hands delicately to allow her to kiss his lips. He breathed with a stuttered, barely kissing back, and she smirked. Couldn’t concentrate huh?

She re-entered a more vigorous rhythm, pushing her hands against each other slowly. “What was that you said Derek?” She licked her hand thumb to palm, adding her second hand to assist. “Doing it all yourself…?”

She slowed significantly, watching his hips twitch. “Although, I guess you would be the master of doing it for yourself?” She pushed down on his hip for a moment with her knee to readjust. “It’s okay though. I know how to do it myself too.” She smiled, before kissing her way down his chest, over his million-dollar abs, to his shaft.

He croaked, and she dragged her tongue up the back of the shaft. He squeezed his eyes, and she paused. Not so fast.

“Oh Derek?” His eyes clicked open, and she swallowed him, tongue leading the way. Suck in, bob out—easy enough, but he couldn’t pull his eyes away from her. The universe was in order. His eyelids began to droop closed and she sucked just the head of his cock harder, groping her own breast, pinching her own nipple.

“Fuck Casseeeey, ahhhh fuck you fucking cheat--” _See_? The right type of porn really can be education.

His voice snarled, raspy and raw, and it wasn’t just music, but the very sound of the universe. One hand continued to grope herself, while the other etched fingernails into his thigh holding her up.

She tried to start a rhythm at first, eyes shut, slowly pushing herself, bit by bit, until she felt him hit the back of her throat, and she heard him croak again. His hand tangled in her hair, keeping her right there. She rolled her eyes.

“Careful there, Casey,” He gritted his teeth, barely got the words out. “Wouldn’t want me to come on your hair,” He loosened his grip, brushing down to her head, leaning one hand against her cheek, “or your face.” She glanced up at him, snorted, and leaned her head into his hand. He could have one moment. “Or maybe you want me to---”

“Derek, you aren’t leaving here until you cum on my tits, so you can stop fucking talking and get to it.” Down again, humming as she went, and she flicked up again to see his eyes squeezing close. His hands gripped into the roots of her hair, and he was left utterly speechless. Oh. Hell. Yes.

“Ugh, Case, I’m—” He pulled her shoulders upright, and suddenly, she looked down to spurting on her chest.

It flooded on her, warm and thick on her body, and she re-evaluated whether this was as hot as she thought it was in her mind, sparing a look at Derek. His eyes were fully blown open, most muscles down his neck through his shoulders tensed with anticipation, breath ragged, a hand crushed in his hair, and the other still leaving a mark on her shoulder.

Okay. Okay. It totally was that hot.

_So innocently_ unable to really consider what was happening, she dragged her fingers between her breasts to catch a little of his cum, and she flashed him a grin before sucking her fingers. Bitter, but worth every, second of watching his eyes getting wider and him jolting out of his temporary relief.

“Oh god Case, … driving me… you are fucking crazy,” He groaned so deeply, covering his eyes with his arm, as if to shield himself from just the thought. So overstimulated, she mentally patted herself on the back (and thanked herself for watching that overwhelming amount of porn). His fading tanned skin blushed a shade so dark she decided was her favorite color. She sat for a second, allowing herself to relish in the moment.

She was flawless. She was here for it, she was going to finally have sex with Derek Venturi.

“Was that so hard to give in?” She stood up, trying to catch the cum before it got on her floors. She sighed in distress, turning to grab the towel in her closet.

“You are so full of shit.” Still breathing hard, he sagged into the bed. “Whoever knew that mild-mannered, keener Casey was so dirty in bed?”

“Well, you’d know if we did this weeks ago.” Casey wiped herself down, feeling unnecessarily sticky. She turned around, crossing her arms over her chest. Her arms against her braless chest for a moment, feeling a moment self-conscious.

“We could have been doing this for years if you just told me.” He cocks his head, obviously giving her yet another once over.

“Does it get kind of tiring,” She flicked her hair over her shoulder, “just constantly checking me out?”

“If you’d walk around like this, I probably couldn’t pay attention to anything else.”

“You already can’t pay attention to anything else.”

“Tell a girl you’re into her, and she doesn’t let you forget it.” He shook his head. “If you took off those shorts, I don’t think I’d ever be able to concentrate on anything else ever again.”

“Is that a binding promise?” She stood her ground for a moment. His game was always transparent, but that was definitely the appeal. “No more hockey games with Sam in the living room?”

“He wouldn’t even been allowed in the door.”

“And you going out to watch it at his house? Should I get the paperwork together?”

“I don’t really want to talk about Sam right now.”

“What do you want to talk about?” She had thought she had a strong upper hand here, and here he was, barely playing and still getting it out of her. He stretched a bit, and she watched his well-developed bicep flex as he shifted his arm, to rest along the headboard. The low light of the street lamp outside paired with the small night light ( _yes, leave her alone)_ inside shown the sheen of sweat upon his chest and down his stomach. His hair, damp and wild. A small bruise forming right on his collarbone, and she felt a tingling again. She was sufficiently ready for whatever was happening next.

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll be ready to talk again real soon.” He smirked, patting the space on the bed beside him. She rolled her eyes _because of course he was he like this_ , but climbed back on the bed.

He leaned over her, and she leaned in for the kiss. He briefly kissed her, the softest of touches, and she thought she might go out of her mind. Really, what did to expect? That Casey couldn’t be sentimental after all her planning and nitpicking. Holy hell, she was still human.

“Give me your hand.” He broke off the kiss, running his hand down her shoulder, clasping her hand, raising the wrist to his lips, leaving an open mouth kiss.

No. Nooooo. Nooooooooo.

“The other one.” She immediately pulled her other hand across her body, watching his shit eating grin. He kisses the tips of each finger, softly, lovingly. She could cry if she wasn’t so turned on. She tried to soften the sound, but it eecked out of the back of her throat. His eyes swung around to study her face, and she shut hers.

She didn’t want to watch him watch her. To see him realize how much she wanted him in that moment, and see how it would register with him.

She thought she’d planned all the bullshit, the fear, the anxiety right out of her system.

“Casey.” He whispered into her neck. He kissed her cheek. “Casey, come on.” His hand intertwined with hers.

  
  
She stayed silent, opening her eyes, looking down. He flexed squeezed her hand, swinging himself over her. She looked away, when his other hand drifted up her arm, up her neck, and wrapped around her jaw and neck.

“Case,” he said slowly, and whipped her eyes only to close them when he kissed her.

She thought she could take a moment of her thoughts without him. But now it was his thumb pushing against her chin to get a slightly different angle. His hips fully pressed into hers, and she was certain surprised by the urgency given what a show she just gave. She tried to hold these pieces, close to mind, but instead his tongue against the roof of her mouth, relished in her want, making her forget. His thumb rubbing against her wrist, only reminding her it was real. It was Derek.

Derek. Derek. Derek. Derek.

She kissed back with abandon, pulling both her hands to run through his hair, to keep his face in place. No games, no back and forth. Just them, being in a moment. A moment she hadn’t planned for, but it was soft and passionate and disturbingly sweet. And exactly what she needed in that moment.

She opened her eyes, and he smiled. She slid her hands down to his shoulders, and then pulled him over her. He smirked, and she resisted rolling her eyes because they just had a soft moment, and if it became something else, she’d just have to—

“Casey, Casey Casey.” His hands came to plant on either side of her. “You’ve left yourself very vulnerable to a reciprocal attack, dontcha think?”

“So, you’ve decided to eat a book the day I decided to have sex with you? What do I gotta do to get you to eat a dictionary?” He smirked that stupid smirk, and lazily moved his tongue down her neck.

“Have sex? Who ever said anything about having sex?” She wanted to slap him, but fighting while kissing was so much better, so she ran her nails down his back.

He groaned, his _gigantic, enormous, amazing_ hands squeezing everywhere he could find.

She stared at the ceiling, while she felt him dragging her shorts down her hips, and he popped up again to kiss her. Languidly, he sucked on her tongue, his hands swept into her shorts to grab her ass. She very quickly was losing her mind. Again. A third time? What day was it…

“Derek.” He opened his eyes to look at her. She lifted her hips, for him to immediately pull her shorts down her legs. She hissed, his heated body no longer touching hers so closely. He pulled her shorts down, off her ankles, and they immediately flew through the air to hit her laptop.

“De-rek!” She cried, and his hands went to between her legs. He rubbed his palm against her clit, leaning forward to make eye contact with her.

“Say it again.” A directive? His eyes focused, mouth so wet and shiny, she shuddered. _A demand_.

“I don’t negotiate with terrorists.” She gritted out while he ground against her clit. Her hand grabbed onto her breasts, trying to find some relief from the stimulation.

“Hm… I think you do.” He left a kiss on her inner thigh and she considered it. “I think you’d be willing to do more than negotiate with terrorists.” His hand ran against her slit, and she agreed with him.

“I have a public to answer to.” She lied him, her voice just controlled enough, she almost believed herself.

“I think you don’t just negotiate.” She felt his breathe against her, and she tried to remember ever single thing she’s fantasized about for the last couple years. “I think you’d beg for it.” She couldn’t help it, how much she wanted him.

Her hands grabbed his hair, pulling his roots tightly. She shivered against his chuckles on her skin, and he dove in.

“Oh my god, Derek!” She thought a lot about this so often, but nothing could be recognized how erotic this really was. His reddish-brown hair bobbing between her legs, and his finger slid up and down the inside with her thigh—she couldn’t tell where any of that _real good feeling_ was coming from. Whimpering, she wriggled her legs unsure what she wanted to do except keep him there. He maneuvered her thighs over his shoulders, speeding up whatever he was doing with his tongue.

She moaned loudly, splotches of unorganized _good_ erupting inside of her, bubbling outside of her. She pushed her heel against his back, pushing him down, as she thrusted into his mouth. _Where he belonged, in between her legs._ The images of Derek’s toothy grin right above her clit were being slotted to remain in the deep recesses of her brain, and she considered if she could pay him in blow jobs to go down on her whenever she wanted. She closed her eyes, trying to hold onto to the moment, but she was losing herself to him.

“Oh goddamn De-rek, don’t stop don’t stop!” Her thighs gripped his head, and a hand released his hair to run through her hair. Just a little more, so she found and dragged his hands from her thighs to her nipples, which he immediately palmed.

“Ugh, Casey—this is so hot. You’re so fucking hot.” His right hand came up under her ass to better angle himself, left rolling her nipple in-between his fingers. He sucked at her clit until she felt her insides tense up, and he kept it up. Suddenly everything and nothing mattered.

“DE-REK _!_ ” Her voice hit top level and she struck the headboard with the back of her fist. She came, shrieking out any words and phrases and sounds and not-sounds were stuck in the back of her throat, and she let go, hand running up and down her body, through her hair. Casey felt his lips press against her clit to work her through the moment.

When she opened her eyes, his stupid grin shined through her come on his face, and she scrambled up to kiss him because she needed him to know she loved it. That she adored him. That he was all she needed right now.

He was equally willing to accept her love, and she tasted herself on him, and she broke the moment with him to kiss him all over his face.

“Oh my god Derek, oh my god, ugh, I haven’t—” He deeply kissed her again, and her feet tried try to push his PJs completely off. “So good Derek, it was sooo—"

“I want you so bad. I’ve always wanted you. I need you.” He repeated over against her, his hands assisting her feet. He wiggled out, kicking the pants to the floor. He reached up again to kiss her, and his eyes stared right into hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Multiple takes -- please treat individually once again.
> 
> -get it girl  
> -this is literally twice as long as every other chapter because I clearly know exactly what I'm doing  
> -emotional development? is that something that goes in a car?  
> - _what da fuk? is that allowed?_  
>  -I have so many regrets, but this cliffhanger? Not one of them.  
> - _Ladies, gentlemen, theybies and gentlethems, it was lovely to have you this year. See you next year, or not!_  
>  -this is the end of the line Casey--you got what you want, now we must negotiate for what I want: grad school acceptance. nooo, not that kind of negotiation.  
> -Derek, for the love of all that is not broken in your apartment, just manage your motherfuckin' business


	7. The Visceral Conclusion

Casey never saw herself as someone who was particularly closed off – she’s an open book, happy to engage in the vulnerability. But, when Derek slowly dragged the pads of his fingers over her shoulders, down the dip in her collar bone, over the roundness of her breasts (spending a moment laser focused after her breath hitched in her throat), and down the flat plane of her stomach, she felt naked in a way she never expected.

Naked, but not exposed.

The thought groused at her out-of-office consciousness: Derek was probably one of the only people who saw her. He had always told her who she was, even when she didn’t know, but the way he watched her stretching, she had to admit he was right. He probably always had been.

He probably knew her better than she knew herself because she knew him a hell of a lot better than he knew himself. He pressed into her, laying all of his weight on her, and their overheated skin clung to each other. She wrapped her hand around his back, savoring the moment, kissing his neck.

“Are you out of condoms?” His hand rustled around the night stand. “I think I have a couple in the car.” She kissed up his face, pretending to consider their options because she literally knew all of this information. She had planned on it after all.

“I have been waiting for months. I don’t want to wait any longer. Fuck me now.” She breathed out as if she hadn’t practiced that line in the mirror for months.

He stopped for a minute while her thighs closing on his hips. She tried to grind herself against him as best as she could, but under his weight, she was fighting a losing battle, sinking into the bed. He pushed himself off of her, and they both flinched from the immediate cold. Inadvertently, he pushed their hips together closer and he groaned.

“You don’t have to worry. Just,” kiss, “give”, kiss “me—” He was so fucking responsible and it was just rubbing that space deep in her brain that had been asking to bang Derek’s brains out for years. She deepened the kiss immediately. This corn-fed moron could ruin ice cream if he was given the time. She released him to look him straight in the eyes and rubbed herself against him.

“Oh my god, just stop. I’m trying…,” She glared while he croaked out a groan. She patted his back trying to stop herself from strangling him. “If you want, but I am on the pill, and well, it’s been a while.” She feels the embarrassment crawling through her.

“Oh.” His eyes were wide and dilated, just like how he looked her earlier in the day. Breathing a little too deeply, she was sure he wasn’t capable of listening to her at the moment. She rolled her eyes, and her hand navigated between them to guide him into her.  
  


“Derek, is this okay?” She tried to bring an extra sugariness to her voice, and he immediately snapped out of his reverie. “To summarize, I’m on the pill, but we can go find a condom if you want—”

He thrusted into her hand, groaning, and the tip peeked in. A sound so far back in throat she thought that her heart had uttered it, but she kept it in. She removed her hand, and he pushed in completely. She battled back and forth for whether she wanted him to sink as deep as he could and for them to become a part of each other or to quickly rub against her until they could just have this moment final complete in their lives.

Derek had different plans.

She watched him, his brow knitting together, one arm holding him up, and the other running through his hair over and over again. He pushed deep, until he was at the hilt. Casey flexed her feet, enjoying the extreme and intense stretch. He throbbed and she moaned. His eyes were already closed, and she looked at him realizing quickly something new.

Was this the moment he was realizing? The one where they realize they couldn’t go back. That the old Derek and old Casey ceased to exist on the planet, and the new Derek and new Casey took their places. And she had been craving that moment, but he may have already been a new Derek that she just didn’t recognize.

She reached up for him, her hand landing on his shoulder, tracing up to his face.

His deep brown eyes opened, meeting her blue ones. His face scrunched, his eyes wider, but dark—he looked identical mid-argument Derek: _wild_. She co—would, often, get lost in those eyes. Casey, unable to handle the intensity, heat, the throb, she pulled him against her, burying her face in his neck.

She was so full, filled to the brim, and he was so hard against her walls. It was everything for a bit, but now it wasn’t enough. 

“Derek, move,” she said through her teeth, trying to whine as loud as possible because he deserved annoyance for making her wait. She craved the friction, trying to make stealth movement to find some type of relief. She bucked her hips, providing the smallest bit of what she needed.

“Just, give me one more minute.” He gritted out, he dug his face against her pillow underneath her head. “I just need a minute.” He held her hips down.

Casey had assumed she would have conflicting emotions in both victory but also wanting to force Derek to really acknowledge what a sex god(dess) she was, but she did not feel any of those feelings. Instead, she felt warm and lovely. Like all the light in the world had been catalyzed to pour into her body and if he’d just move, maybe she could release it.

He was cast in setting sunlight, just enough she could see him and she felt quiet air between them. Her body was nagging her like crazy, and she tried to wait while he can to terms with what was happening. She felt urgency, and aggression, and frustration, and thought she may rip out her own hair out before she’d rip his out.

“Please, I am trying, but can’t wait, please move please. Please.” The slow descent into madness started earlier than expected and madness was worse than expected. Her brain, _the rational, thought, sassy bit,_ was unable to keep up with her mouth. “Move, I’m so wet for you, I adore you, please move, please show me you want me too.”

He groaned, kissing her neck, and pulling back completely and pushing back in. He began a rhythm, at a sturdy and structured, but an agonizingly dawdling pace. She finally released the moan from deeper than she expected, and tried to chase it back in with little avail.

“Harder,” she demanded.

“Wh-at?”, Derek made noise in the back of his throat, and she took a second to make sense of what was being said but she was so turned on by how little Derek could handle himself.

“Just k-eEP! Keep making noise.” She breathed out. He groaned, his entire body shaking and her thighs trembled.

She tried to pull him up, so she could watch him, but he remained face down, face hidden in her neck. Was he ashamed? Upset? Insecure?

“I want to watch you Derek,” she groaned. “…hear you too.” She knew that when she sobered up, she likely would scream with how cheesy she sounded. But she gave up on trying to hide. She dragged her hand to in between them, trying to provide useful friction because apparently, he couldn’t be bothered to do so. Casey waited too long to not see his beautiful face when he came inside of her. “do you want to listen, hear…”

His hand follows hers, running down her arm, following her movement. His overall movement slowed even more, and she briefly wondered if it would be better to just push him off and jack off in front of him at this point to prove she’d rather do this alone.

“Do I have to do EVErYthing myself?” She blurted out mid-moan, raising her hips, trying to get more friction, more intensity, more everything. “I’m not going to break.” (If it was possible at that moment and she thought she might just cut it off and fuck herself on it)—

“I’m trying really hard to be romantic, but I’ll turn you over, and we can—” He sputtered before she turned her head to kiss him. He leaned in to kiss her back, deepening it quickly. His mouth tasted like salt and sweet and something undistinguished. It took her a moment to realize it was her, and she responded enthusiastically by once again, forcing her tongue in his mouth.

Had sex always been like this? Dragged out, deep, personal touches—not exploratory, but relishing. Even if they were new to each other in this way, she felt a focus in the familiarity. Their hands meeting in the middle like they were made to move together like this, and when he finally hit a place so deep in her she had never known about, she barely recognized her own voice. Had this always been her? Delicious, crave-worthy, desired by him? She threw her left leg over his hips, trying to control a more systematic rhythm. Derek broke the kiss, finding any other available skin to plant his lips on.

He pushed himself onto an arm, the other going to secure her hip against his. He stroked her over and over from thigh to ass. She wondered if he was trying to get them closer, but something flipped in him the second she shifted positions, and he slammed into her harder.

“Caa-asey, so perfect—want you, need you, yes—” Her moaning and groaning increased and encouraged him to set a more _reasonable_ rhythm. He licked around her nipples, closing his mouth around her nipple.

“Deerree-ck, more. Here for you, but need,” her voice ricocheted across the walls. “More, I need you here.” The stretch and _pulsation_ of Derek when he finally got with the program, his weight on her, Casey could not get enough. Spinning, spinning, her body buzzed, heat built where their bodies were touching. The thought of him, of having him like this, hammering into her coupled with the feelof him, she thought she might die of ecstasy.

He slammed into her harder over and over again, and she mewed, and cried and just made whatever noises her body needed to make to communicate—

_Damn,_ she’d quit going to work and make this her day job.

“Oh my god Derek.” Her body curled up towards, him the pressure winding quickly. There was little to think of outside his tanned skin, warmth, his hot air on her skin, and the eyes staring her up and down as if she’s the only thing left on earth. In the universe. As if she’s the only thing that has ever existed.

This was doing wonders for her ego. She felt loved. Nothing was enough, but everything was too much.

“De-rek! Don’t stop, don’t leave me, please,” She ordered.

His hand reached for hers, intertwining and flexed in hers. She watched him as he groaned, eyes closing, his panting, hot breath fanned over her. She pulled at his neck with her free hand to get him as close as possible—she had to lick at neck, chest, whatever way she could touch him. He needed to know how tight she was, and how full she was—how much she needed him to know how much she needed this, needed him, loved him.

Casey’s hands drifted into his hair, pulling harder, hoping something, anything at all was communicated. Nothing except them, their movement, the motion could be trusted.

His thrusts picked up speed, and he found places in her that she herself didn’t know about. She threw her other leg around his hips, calling out his name as she felt her body is climbing something, trying to find a higher peak.

“Casey—I’m so close,” He whispered into her cheek, “so-close, w-what do you need?”

“I need this, you—need it forever.” Her thighs flexed trying to keep the tension, and she was unsure if she said meant anything.

“Touch me, Casey, you need to touch me.” His voice shook, dipping everywhere. She cried as her hands scratch from the back of his head to his lower back. She bit her lip trying to manage need, molten, swirling, _rabid_ between her legs, in her stomach, at the tips of her fingers.

“Derek,” She screams. “ _Derek, Derek, Der-eek!”_

Casey felt him fill her, and she wanted to question how wonderful this feels, to be loved and to have done that, but she also had absolutely no patience for her own mind right now.

Derek collapsed, head hitting her breasts, which she winced at. Her hands immediately reached for his hair again, her fingers combing through the curls.

“Waiting,” he breathed hot air on to her skin, “was the wrong decision.”

“Mmhmm.” She considered the hundred different ways she could have gotten him into bed, and none of the included waiting, so she ultimately agreed with him. Derek looked up at her, and she hoped there was more context for what he was thinking on how to go about what happened next.

“Who would have thought the way to get you to shut up was to fuck your brains out?” He chuckled. Her eyes narrowed.

“Excuse me, who fucked whose brains out here?” She huffed. “I distinctly remembering you needing a little bit of help in the—”

Derek swooped in to kiss her, and Casey filed away that information for a future event while she could still pay attention.

That silly, fucking stupid mouth. It belonged to her right now. They broke the kiss.

“I want to ask you what do we do now, but I know that your mind is going to turn into hyperdrive—” Casey pushed against him. He arched his eyebrows, but he raised himself on to his forearms. Casey squirmed and rolled over on to her stomach.

“Didn’t you say you were going to turn me over?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please help me in preparing to say good bye soon! We're one chapter away from being done.


	8. Post-Planning Huddle

Did Casey know they were going to be good at sex? Oh my god, just look at them, of course she knew that? Stop asking silly questions. Did she expect that multiple years (some of those as teenagers) of unresolved sexual tension would result in them fucking like rabbits absolutely all over their apartment? Uhhhh—

For the last two weeks, Casey could stop and take Derek wherever and _however_ she wanted. An off-kilter glance, a brush against the right area, and Casey’s panties were already tossed half way across the apartment, Derek lapping at her clit. (It turns out she did not need to pay for sexual favors with other sexual favors, but she definitely donated sexual favors to ensure continued service. The public radio model was working _extremely_ well).

She scoured through her plans, realizing that she never had really considered what she’d/they would do once the deed was done—she really only considered the big picture of bedroom shenanigans. Casey did (and _DOES)_ constantly sweat the small stuff. So, for this entire part of the plan, the goal, the _campaign_ , she had never even considered the thought of what comes next? Embarrassing. Real amateur hours out here.

How was she supposed to talk to Derek about it? Those things, those lovely, hinting words the first time they had sex and she really should used as a fun transition, but Casey did not use it, and Derek didn’t explain further.

Did he want more? Did he want less?

She considered this would be a good moment to text Emily for updates, but when she sent the most scandalous picture she could while he was still asleep captioned appropriately “Mission Accomplished”, Emily sent an equally racy photo with a head of hair popping out of her sheets of her winking.

The Emily-Casey debrief was long and arduous. They both agreed to take a break around 3/4th through the meeting, (which resulted in a sex break they both took…), and then concluded Casey should do some soul searching to figure out… what comes next?

  
It felt like she accomplished something at the moment, but now… do what?

Propose? _Maybe… **NO!**_ Approach the topic like a mature adult that starts with “we should talk”? Absolutely, no fucking way.

She wished there were more options, but she knew the longer she waited, the options would slowly disappear.

She rested her head against her desk at home, happy to take a work from home day to think about how terrible it was to be an extreme emotional mess, but extremely horny at the same time.

There was more than a half a day left of work to do, but Casey had already had a glass of wine, knowing she was competent enough to finish it fast. (If you can’t manage your needs and your work at the same time, how does anyone plan on being in the prime minister’s cabinet by 40?) But she couldn’t wait for Derek to come home to figure this out.

Casey stared at the dark black screen of her computer, then opened up her Zoom—time for the weekly meeting. She poured herself another glass of wine as Emily’s, always gorgeous, face popped up.

“Why hello Casey m’dear. How are you doing today?”  
  


“Someone sounds like they are in a good mood—anything particularly fun happen for you?”

“Nothing really,” Emily said nonchalantly. “Ooh, are we doing wine-down at 3 pm? Let me pour a glass.”

“Don’t you have work?” Casey raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t you?” Emily yelled from the background. “I’m a marketer Casey. Marketer of Year, if you remember!!! My career came up with ‘work hours’ and sold it to the general public. I don’t gotta abide.” Casey heard some rustling in the background. “Yes—but later babe—”

  
“Is the infamous Nasim there?” Casey’s eyes darted all over the screen, looking for evidence of life.

  
“No comment.” A voice sounded from the background. Emily rushed back—and Casey smirked at her, and Emily hit the webcam with a finger. “And I repeat, no comment. Anyways, you never answered my question. What can I do for you on this wonderful afternoon?”

“You’d know if you’d pay attentions to my te—"

“Casey, I’ve been ignoring your texts because now you two got your shit together, I don’t really need to know every time you—”

“Em!!”

  
“Fine, do you want me to go through your texts now? I can do that—”

“Em, what do I want?”

“To be prime minister by 45?”

“Yes, but we may have to pass on that because I’m in love with my stepbrother.”

“I think the people of Canada may accept that. It’s spicy, intriguing, would make great daytime tele—”

“Em, what do I want?!”

  
“You want to tell Derek you love him, but not in a way that he’ll freak out because you think this might just be sex to him, despite the fact that I’ve assured you multiple times it’s not just sex to him.”

“Okay, yes, this is what I want. But how do I… achieve what I want?”

“Casey, you are the planner, not me.”

“Em, what kind of language do I use?”

“ _Derek, I’ve been in love with you for many years, and—"_

“I don’t sound like that!” Casey sighed.

“Casey, I don’t know what to tell you at this point.” Emily exasperated. “You’ve been in love with Derek for so long, I don’t even remember who you were before. That’s how I’ve been explaining things to Nasim: You are extremely organized, ambitious, and in love with Derek Venturi for as long as I can remember.”

“And how are things going with Nasim after the happening?” Casey slid in, hoping they may peek out in the background.

“Oh no you don’t. As both your tragic best friend and the fact that we had this same conversation after whatever fucking marathon you and Derek had the other day, we’re not doing this again. What are you scared of Casey?”

  
“I don’t know…” Casey trailed off.

“Casey, I can only help you if you tell me what you are scared of,” Emily said.

“What if he doesn’t love me Em? What if I’m too crazy for him to love me and if I tell him he’ll laugh at me?”

“Okay, we’re getting somewhere. Why do you think he doesn’t love you? The man literally takes care of you like any actual boyfriend. Didn’t he remove your makeup once when you fell asleep with it on?”

“Yes, but—”

  
“And now doesn’t he drive you to and from work?”

“Yeah, and—”

“Didn’t he stand in line with you at the cute bakery in City Centre to get you those croissant things?”

“Cro-nuts, but they call them O-towner, but he complained the whole time and —”

“Casey, you already sound like you’ve been dating for years because you practically have. And I’ve been there the whole time! He loves you, please believe me!”

  
“But how do I make sure?”

  
  
“CASEY,” Emily clapped. “ASK HIM. I CAN’T KEEP GOING AROUND IN CIRCLES.” Emily slapped the table, and then winced. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but the day of Mission Accomplishment, Carla called me.”

“Did you two hang out without me?!”

“Yes.” Emily said. “But I relayed what happened earlier that day to her because she was curious and you should know, that at our age, we have very few friends to gossip about. Derek went to their house to chat before it happened, and you know what Carla said?”

  
“You all hang out without me?”

  
“Casey, as much as I love you, you and Derek have been fucking each other’s brains out for the last couple weeks, and we all know it. I happened to be near Ottawa last weekend, and I wasn’t not interested in entering your little sex den, especially after the graphic descriptions, and seriously, Case, I think you forget that I dated Derek and kind of do not want to hear the gratuitous details between you and my ex—” Emily paused. “We are not going to interrupt while you two finally getting together.”  
  
  


“Fine, what did Carla say?”

“Derek spent the better part of the last couple of months basically trying to protect himself from getting in bed with you because he’s worried you haven’t thought about this deep enough and was trying to protect you if you had wavering feelings.”

  
“I am having wavering feelings!”

“Yeah, but not ON being in love with Derek. Just on what to do ABOUT being in love with Derek.” Emily leaned back, waving at figure in the background. “Okay, I’m done with this. One sec.” Emily pulled out her phone. “I’m calling Derek.”

“No!” Casey yelped.

“Why not? I’ll just ask him if he loves you, and then we’re done. You and I can move on with our lives, and I will finally invite Nasim onto video cha—no babe,” Emily looks beyond the screen. “I will not officially introduce you to this bucket of ridiculousness until she gets her shit together and tells her stepbrother she loves him. I know what I said, and I don’t regret it.”

“Okay, I’ll negotiate. I’ll tell him, and then Nasim and I get to bond over Emily’s most annoying habits?” Casey said gleefully.

“CASEY TELL DEREK SO WE CAN BOND,” a voice in the distant background came through. Casey giggled at them while Emily shook her head.

“Fine. If that is incentive, then it’s good enough.” Emily pounded the table with an open palm. “I don’t care what you do, but stop doubting yourself. If you tell him, and Carla, Sam, your siblings, the universe and myself are wrong about it, you are welcome to visit me here in Toronto and talk shit all you want with Nasim. They obviously are on board.”

“Okay, you got a deal.” Casey said giggling. “Wait, my siblings?”

“Casey, you have been in love with him for so long, I don’t know if I remember who you were before,” Emily ignored her. “So just fucking tell him you adore him, you love him, you want to have his babies, so everyone can move on with their lives.”

“Okay Emily. I will.” Casey smiled. “I will soon. Byeee Nasim”

  
“I love you, bestie, but if you come back to me pre-confession talk, I’m going to ignore your texts.” Emily giggled and Casey rolled her eyes. A distance “BYYEEE” shouted in the background. “And Casey, the pic of the fishnet stockings? Your legs are already like—I think he’d have a seizure.”

  
“Love you too.” Casey smiled.

The screen faded, and Casey looked at herself in the now black mirror.

Did she regret the time? _No, Casey McDonald has few regrets and you should know this by now._ But she does regret not at least being honest with herself now.

She considered just texting him— “I love you, please come home and make love to me.” But if he didn’t come, she’d be heartbroken.

Casey thought it may be a good moment to get some sex advice from the source that was… quickly becoming her favorite, but even with the wine, it wasn’t doing enough for her.

Closing her laptop, she pulled off her panties and threw on Derek’s shirt sitting on her bed. ( _Sleeping together_ included sleeping together and she wasn’t going to sleep on his bed because ew…) She looked at herself in the larger mirror resting against the wall: Her hair was perfectly coifed because of her video meetings today, the makeup on her face light and playful, but she stood braless, his shirt ending right below her panties. She was too clean to have been in a roll around on the bed. She grabbed the darkest lipstick near her, swiping it on haphazardly. Then she ran her hands through her hair.

There. Someone who could possibly just been railed in the middle of the day. She posed in front of the mirror considering how hot she is (it’s the 21st century and women accepting they are attractive is the tenant of Casey’s own creed!!). She set her shoulders back, raised the shirt to just a respectful amount of underboob, and _1, 2, 3 click._

After sending them to him ( _What does one with racy photos otherwise?)_ , she stumbled to the coach with a third glass of wine, lying down, her hand stroking her stomach in attempt to continue to stroke her ego waiting. She sipped, then closed her eyes, imaging those photos sitting his phone when he notices he gets a text.

Nothing turns her on like getting something over on Derek. She threw a hand over her eyes, and her hands glided into her panties, to rub her inner thigh. He was probably walking into his office, complaining about balancing his budget or schedule. (Casey recognizes her fantasies of Derek being a Type A personality is a total delusion, but let a girl do whatever the fuck she wants). His face turning red (just like it did the first night), his eyes instantly dilating, and the only thing on her screen changing the small message of “ _seen”._

She downed the glass, hoping to get she could tipsy fast.

She dragged her fingers against herself, extremely turned on that he didn’t even respond, she pushed in. She left her phone against her chest, her other hand grazing against her stomach, suddenly when her cell buzzed.

**_Video call incoming…_ **   
_Stupid Fucking Idiot_

She toyed in her mind with how to pick up the phone—should she hold up properly? Should she flash her fingers? Should she admit she’s in love with him?

  
She flipped over, leaving the phone to lean against the couch’s arm sitting on her stomach. He didn’t need to know where her hands were—and how incredibly hot would it be to literally get off to him WHILE he was talking to her, and he wouldn’t even know?

  
She swiped on the green icon, and Derek’s face popped up.

“Yes, Derek?” Her finger stroked the inside of her thigh. If she played her cards right, maybe she’ll squeeze an orgasm before he’d get home. Stress reliever, coping mechanism, denial? It was all really the same.

“What are you up to?” He said casually, the deepest timbre of his voice driving her insane. He was driving, so he was just look at her ever other moment.

“Are you driving? Derek, not cool.”

  
“Local streets babe, hands free access.” He said, his hands tapping on eleven and four on the steering wheel. “Again, what are you up to?”

“Nothing much. Just finished some work. Taking a wine break.” Her own voice vibrated through the coach, and she flex her foot. She let one finger enter, hoping that she might hold it together. “Y-you?”

  
“Well, I’m driving home early so I can eat your pussy out because you thought it was so much fun to send those pictures while I was in meetings.” He casually checked his blind spot. She pursed her lips together, pushing another finger in, curling up and down at her knuckle. “When did you wash those Hello Kitty panties? Think I didn’t notice that?”

  
“It really wasn’t hygienic to keep them like that—”

“Or I could fuck you on the floor outside of the door so you know how turned on I am.” He kept his eyes on the road. She grimaced with his nonchalant attitude.

“You’re so easy,” she did the best impression of his smirk ( _can you blame her? It’s so infuriating attractive it’s like looking into the sun)_. “I d-doubt you even considered the other options.”

“Options? You send me pictures of yourself practically naked except a pair of panties and my t-shirt, and expect me to concern myself with _options_?”

  
“So quick to accept defeat Derek, as always,” she said, trying to control her breathing, her fingers going in and out of herself. “I have taught you well.”

“Taught me? This isn’t me accepting defeat Casey—” his eyes tracked outside, back and forth, “This is just war. And real war—none of that shit we did as kids.”

“W-war? R-really?” She bit her lip, trying to calm herself, but her hand moving faster. Her thumb rubbed against her clit, and her face heated up. “I’d think that our entire lives have just been an endless war—b-but, I can see how you may be slow to the take.”

  
“Slow to the take?! You know damn we—” his eyes suddenly widened while her breathing increased. “Wait, wait.”

“Hmm?” She said nonchalantly. She rested her chin against the couch cushion.

“Are you—”

“Am I what?”

  
“Are you—”, his head bobbed side to side and tapped his fingers.

“Y-yeah. Wait, how do you know I’m touching myself?” Phone technology really has come a long way because Derek’s ogle pierced right through the screen.

“Are you drunk?!” He demanded, his voice dropping deeper, if that was possible. His eyes didn’t look away.

“D-derek, the road. Watch the fucking road.” Her teeth chattered, trying to hold on. His eyes whiplash up. “How far are you?”

“I’d be watching the road if you weren’t fucking yourself while we talked on the phone.” He growled. “You aren’t drunk, are you?”

  
“I drank some wine, Der-Derek.” She pressed her lips together, trying to look forward, but she was losing the thread of her thoughts. “Just tipsy. But how did you know?”

“You’re such a lightweight.” His hand ran through his hair. “I’m close by Casey. Let me hear you.”

“N-no.” She whispered, suddenly feeling off balance, realizing what she said, and realizing he barely registered it. Fear filled her.

“You sure are something Case.” His register dropped. “But okay, I can wait.”

“W-wh-at?” Her voice squeaked, her hand stopped. She breathed deeply. “I thought you said this is war.”

  
“Yeah, but if you don’t want to do this, I don’t want to make you.” His hands both sat on the wheel again.

“Why are you fucking like this?” She surprised herself ( _the worse kind of surprise!)_. “So, fucking wonderful and sweet. Always trying to take care of me.”

“How do you keep fucking surprising me?” He fired back at her, his voice dropping lower and lower. “Just give me another couple minutes—I’ll be there.”

“Your voice is like fucking aphrodisiac, gravely and angry. I just want to hear it all day, it literally makes me so wet.” She rubs against her clit. Her eyes were so heavy, she gave into gravity.

“I lov—”

“And your fucking hands. Were your hands always so big?” Her fingers sped up. “Your fingers know me better, mine can’t anymore. It’s unfair I can’t have them.”

“They’re yours—”

“How far away are you Derek?” Her eyes squeezed close. “I need your mouth.”

“Hold on, I’ll be there soon.” He grumbled under his breathe, and she whined. “Don’t cum until I get there.”

“Derek, I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, thank you very much,” she breathed out shakily, but she removed her hands. She opened her eyes, and the call had ended. She was extremely uninterested in waiting for him to get there after she spilled the beans and didn’t realize it herself. She waited a minute, grazing back on her inner thigh. Casey flipped over onto her back to provide herself a better angle. She breathed, hoping to calm down, staring at the ceiling. Planting the bottom of her feet on the sofa, Casey placed her palm directly on her clit, grinding hard.

“Stupid fucking moron,” She gritted out, trying to recreate his favorite combination, but she wanted his mouth so badly. “Stupidfuckingmoronstupidfuckingmoron—"

The door slammed.

“Always with the name calling,” His voice resounded around the apartment. “Case, did you--?”  
  
  


“Not yet, I—” He was already on his knees in front of her, his tongue cleaning her hands, and his hand shoved her knees apart. Casey looked down at him, trying to quickly get him into position. Her hand pulled on the sides of her panties, but Derek was faster, pulling her further off the couch, his fingers shoving her panties aside. His other hand held her, thumb curling over hip hard. His tongue went up and down her slit, and she buzzed with anticipation.

“Did you turn off the car?” She spat.

“It’s parked, all that mattered,” Derek breathed against her. She moaned, her head tipping back to hit the couch cushion.

Derek’s mouth descended up on her, devouring from inside out. It was hot, unbearable, here, now, terrifying, _everything_. Casey considered herself adept with her hands and his voice, but his mouth ways? Always a completely different event. He found everything he could in her, with just a flat brush of his tongue and then looked for more. He licked harder and harder, finding new, fresh, _untouched_ surface. Her hands grabbed the root of his hair against his neck.

“Please Derek, please. Only you,” She whimpered and considered everything in her life suspect until this point. She tried to shove off her panties, hoping he may get it, but he firmly kept her panties to one side while he continued to lick deeply. Her hips, barely controlled, bucked wildly, and she considered he may be drowning. But if he had to drown, it might as well be in her.

“Your mouth is—it’s so good Derek, so good,” she whimpered, her eyes remaining on his bobbling hair. He flashed his eyes against her, and the brown eyes trained on her along with his continued lush, precious, precise, _ugh._ The pressure coiled quickly. “Higher, Derek, now.”

He pressed his nose as hard against her clit, and she groaned, shoving her hips into his face again. Her feet flexed roughly, her knees bracing beyond his shoulders to hold him in place. Derek’s head was secured between her squeezing thighs. He signed up for face fucking and dammit, if he wanted to suffocate, that was what he was going to get. His nose grounded against her, the rhythm completely lost, but she couldn’t care less when the friction was coming from everywhere.

“I didn’t know—know anything could fe-el this good,” Casey breathed out, knowing it meant nothing with the pressuring mounting, so close to a hitting point. Her thoughts barely existed, just the sheer feelings. He rose, placing his lips around her clit to suck as hard as possible, and she felt a snap.

Casey came screaming, but Derek’s hand came to cover her mouth while helping her ride through the feelings. He kept licking, and she kept going, and she wasn’t sure at this point whether her body existed because her soul was somewhere else. When she finally came back, she dropped her legs around him and scrambled to kiss him.

Derek accepted her kiss, leaning over her, and she pushed him over next to her on the couch, jumping on him. He was already hard as a rock, and her wet center landed on him, so they both groaned. She eased off of him, feeling extremely overstimulated. He pushed her off, both taking a heavy breath.

“Casey, just—just give me a second.” He breathed.

“You know,” She whispered, hoping her voice carried across the room. “You know, right?”

“I know what?”

“You know, you have to know at this point!” She kissed him again. “You have to know, you have to know by now.”

“I know a lot of things Casey.” His hands leaned against her thighs, stroking them softly. “I know that you keep a tub of pesto cappatavi in the fridge so I don’t starve. I know you consider what I like when you buy new shampoos. I know you pay attention to me when I leave the shower. Is that what you are referring to?”

“Kinda, but do you know?”

“No. You have to use your words Princess—” his thigh knocked up, rubbing against her clit. She gripped his other thigh and shoulder and groaned. “Now, what do I know?”

“Not funny.” She breathed. She disentangled herself from him, wobbly rising to her feet. “I’m trying to talk to you, but I can do that talking alone instead.” Casey, trying so hard, pretended to not be hurt. Her legs already leading her to her bedroom, hoping she could have time to think. She was totally trying to bare her soul, and it was coming over like a four-year-old speaking. Just pitiful. This is why planning is important! She could have had years, months of time to craft the perfect speech, but instead she had to listen to her tragic best friend and be more spontaneous. Never again, never ever—

  
“Come on Case, this isn’t really… talking? I don’t know what you mean.” Casey heard Derek popped to his feet, following her out of the living room. She leaned into the frame of her door, trying to stop wobbling. Derek leaned against the other side of the frame, and she rolled her eyes, but put a wandering hand against his chest.

“Derek, this feels like after your hit on the ice.” She whispers out. He went stiff.

“Where you pretended to be my girlfriend to get on the ice?” Derek said slowly. His body remained stiff, but he faked quietness. “Why did you do that then?” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“How else was I supposed to get on the ice?” She avoided his gaze. “I thought I was going to die if I didn’t get to you, I was so scared.” Her hand stopped above his heart, placing her palm there. “Like, Derek, what would I do if you didn’t make it?”

“I made it, Casey. In part because of your terrible bedside manner.”

“That was the last time we lived together, remember?” She reached for his hand and intertwined her fingers with his. “Everything just got so busy with school and work, and I don’t regret us doing anything at this pace, but I guess I only wish I said, this, then.” Casey’s eyes began watering.

Derek raised their connected hands to brush away their tears and smiled.

“I love you. I have loved you for such a long time, and I don’t even remember what Casey is without Derek.” Casey breathed when Derek swooped down to kiss her. “Derek, I want you. I want all of you, with all the complicated family life, with your ravenous appetite, and your inability to just read a room. I want it all.”

“Casey,” He stopped for a moment. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that. I don’t know how long I’ve been waiting, but I love you too. I don’t remember—I don’t remember any part of not being deeply in love with you. Whenever I think about my future looks like, I know I’ll be there, right next to you. In your ridiculous behavior, in your inability to read implication, all of it. You are my life.”

Casey’s mind shook—the sound reverberated through the room, but her hand grabbed his head, pulling it to hers. She kissed him deeply. He should know she loved him so intensely and grossly and he could never forget it.

“Wait.” She pushed him off of her. “If you’ve been in love with me for years, why didn’t you have sex with me for the last couple of months?

“I didn’t think it was exactly rationale behavior to go from congratulating your step-brother on Instagram for getting a big boy job to literally stripping in front of me in the kitchen the next day.” He leaned over her, and she cursed their height difference. “I didn’t know Case. I didn’t know you loved me, and if you just wanted to just have sex with me, it would break me.”

“Yet you decided to sleep with me two weeks ago—”

“After months of you throwing yourself at me, yes. Please, you remember this, I think I eventually figured out that you needed something, but you definitely let your mouth run that night.” He kissed her forehead, kissing down her face.

“I didn’t want to be friends, and I made the obvious case for it.” She smiled and he grinned back her. He was just so handsome, and she felt an active pull from him to her in a way that was terrifying but exhilarating. She wanted this. She wanted him. She wanted it all.

“Also, Casey, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you are so hot, I sometimes wonder if you are photoshopped in real life.” He leaned above her, speaking slowly. “You cannot believe the lengths I went to before to avoid you.”

“No way! I think you are too hot and photoshopped in real life.” They grinned at each other. “Tell me, what did you do when you couldn’t stand it.”

“I used to go to the gym and stay until I didn’t think that I would fuck you against the counter.”

“…mmhm?” Her hands drift in opposite directions, one for the back of his neck, and the other, down down down.

“I jacked off in my car because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“I touched myself when I thought about you. For years, I thought about you,” She closed her eyes, her hand moving to touch herself. “But I wanna celebrate because you said you loved me.”

“I can make that happen.” His hands rested on her hips, encouraging her to grab him. She wrapped her legs around him, jumping, and he caught her. Their middles aligned, and Derek groaned. “You always feel, so good.”

“You feel good, better, I didn’t know this existed.” Casey whispered, and then smacked his shoulder. “I didn’t say that, because it’ll get to your ego, and then you’ll become insufferable.”

“I’ll take that note not to become insufferable then.” He chuckled. Derek pushed her onto the bed behind her, leaning down upon her. “Although, what will you do if I choose not to?” He pressed his lips against hers, teasing open, while her hands went to grab him.

“…Hmm?” Casey pretended to barely pay attention, hoping to he may let it go.

“Never mind,” Derek rolled his eyes. She had taught him well. “Make love to me, Casey.”

_Game time._ Casey’s arms fanned onto the bed. She flexed, her shoulder pressing in, her arms pressing up. She shoved Derek up, who was all but willing to listen. Derek tilted his head, and she nodded. Casey pushed, and Derek followed—Casey scrambled on top.

“Maybe, we’ll see.” Casey grinned. “Who says you aren’t already insufferable?”

“No one. I wasn’t claiming to not be insufferable.”

“So just sufferable—”  
  


“Oh my god, Casey—”

“I love you.” Casey kissed his cheek.

“Oh no you don’t, I refused to be one of those people who just lets stuff go because you wanna be cute and say ‘I love you’ at the right opportunity.” Derek shook his head.

“Come on, it’s new, it’s fresh—we get to do it early now, and then it becomes annoying later.” Casey said while demonstrated to him one of her ever-practiced pouts.

“Don’t think I have never seen you practicing this face.” Derek rolled his eyes while Casey’s eyes went wide.

“You knew?!” Casey slapped his shoulder.

“Casey, you may be a great logistical planner, but you’d literally do it in the mirror with the door swung open.” He kissed her cheek. “Come on, I didn’t know why you were doing it. Just that you were making weird faces in the mirror.”

“Fine, but we’re doing this,” she grounded against him, and he yelped. “—on my terms.”

“We do everything on your—" He began, but she pinched his nipple through his shirt. His brows nestled together, and his hand came to hit the bed. “What the hell Case? Warn a guy, would you?”

“Warn? Do you need this narrated to you?” Casey sat up, watching his face darken. “We come upon the scene—Derek Venturi, self-proclaimed love machine to all, on his back—”

“Hey now, don’t make it a thing—it’s not a thing—” Casey was too fast to the draw. She yanked her shirt off, and awkwardly untangling herself from her already eschewed panties. His face protested, but she leaned down to kiss him, unbuckling his pants.

“It’s okay Derek, I won’t hurt you.” She slowly unzipped his pants, shoved her hand into his boxers to pull him out.

“I know,” he winced. “But you could be a little more—just can we go slowly.”

“Slow? Oh babe,” she pumped him once. “I can do in-fini-tes-ima-lly slow.” She sunk onto him, and his fingers grabbed onto her hips. “Look, you made me wait. That time, you made me wait.” His fingers shook. “We’re going to wait now, okay?”

“W-wait?” His eyes rolled back and she groaned.

“How long do—do you think you’ll be able to hold on?” Casey, head held high, savored his hands stroking down her thighs, his eyes so wide and dark it might be the night itself. His shoulders quaked, anxiety, anticipation, animated elation. His eyes flicked up to hers, and she just about started moving at the intensity of his gaze.

“Don-don’t challenge me Case,” her hip twisted just slight while Casey patted herself mentally. “You’ll lose ev-every—all the time.” Casey groaned against his own slight twist—he was getting hotter, harder, and if possible, thicker? “Ready to give up?”

“N-ever.” Her particularly treacherous hand pulled his shirt up his stomach, but he grabbed it before she could use it.

“Nu-uh,” he breathed out, his face so intensely red. “If I don’t, you don’t.”

“Oh D-derek.” Her other hand rose to her chest. “It’s not for me.” She pinched her nipple, and he squeezed his eyes closed. “It’s for you.”

“H-ow is this—”

“You, you dam-n well know—” She said through her teeth, grinding together. “I’ve been wet for—I’ve been wet for hours Derek.”

“No, I don-I do not know. You have to tel—ugh, you have to tell me.” He brought her hand to his stomach, stroking her palm over his skin. “Harder,” he whispered and she curled her fingers in to scratch him. Derek groaned, the vibrations across his body causes the smallest little muscle moments, setting Casey off to moan herself.

“Are y-you going to come just like this? Pinned underneath me?” Casey giggled, but knowing she was just as susceptible to a teasing as he was.

“I—I am soaked, Casey—need, need, buy new pants” Derek’s teeth chattered together. There was absolutely nothing like a defenseless, cornered Derek ( _a Derek that has accepted and welcomed his fate of Casey ruling his world forever and always_ ) that could possible turn Casey on any more than she already was. She knew she was clenching harder, but she tried to stifle that groan has far down her throat as possible. Casey ran a hand over his cheek as she watched him spin out of his mind. She leaned down to kissed him. His hand ran down her shoulders, down her back, around her ass, and back to her thigh. She shivered into the kiss, her eyes opening to look at his. “Please, Case, please.”

Derek saw her for everything right now. Her good, her bad, her annoying, her terrible, her great, her future, and her past as she saw him—his brown eyes shimmered in the setting winter sun, his short stubble against his chin rubbing against her chin, the muscle in his neck flexing over and over again. His mouth tasted like warm coffee and _her,_ and she kissed him again. His hand stroked her thigh, and she considered tell him again how much she loved him, needed him, wanted to feel like this forever.

He pressed down just his thumb pad hard on her clit, and all hell broke loose.

“Derek!” She broke the kiss, and Casey tried to slap his shoulder, missing by slapping his face. Her hips flexed, leg kicking slightly, causing her hips to buck up and down. Casey moaned, her other hand searching for something to grab, squeezing his bicep. Horrified, she knew this was going to forever be a story and she would never live it down.

“K-new,” he grinned, groaning trying to keep up with her, “I k-new you’d b-reak first.” His hands both gripped her hips, helping her along. She sheepishly looked away, rubbing her palm against his face, and he smirked, shaking his head.

“Not—f—fair.” She shook her head, her eyes trained on his. Disgusting, she was bested by this imbecile. “Fight— _ugh_ —fight fair, Derek.”

“Fi-ght to win, or don’t fight a-at all.”

“What hap-pened to slow?” She dropped to her forearms, his head between as she rolled her hips. “I knew, but I didn’t expect—”

“Case—” His hands tracked up and down her hips. “ _Pleaseee.”_ Begging, _as he should_. Casey tilted her head over, biting down, _hard_ , on the intersection of his neck and shoulder. He throbbed inside of her, and she wept because _damn_. “Casey, you feel so good, so amazing. So wet, so hot, tigh-tight. I want you all the time, all the time, please please.”

“Der—”

“I love you Casey, I love you I love you, I lov—” Casey cut him off by putting kissing him hard. Her hips kept rolling, feeling a coil spin tighter, faster, her body stretching unnaturally to reach him, but his warm ( _gargantuan!!_ ) hands to keep her going. She broke the kiss, sitting tall to ground as much as she could. It was coming soon. She pulled his hand towards her mouthing, licking just the pads of his finger, then placed his middle finger and index inbetween them, trying to orient his fingers between hers. His mind already gone, his hand was as malleable to whatever the hell she wanted.

“Come for me Derek,” She ordered, she pushed his wet fingers against her clit, knowing the chain reaction would work for him. Derek’s voice came out stuttered, groaning her name, his eyes squeezed close with all the blushing tan hues prominent in the setting sun littered all over his face. He pushed harder against her, and the cumulation of his face, his throb, and the pure tension of the moment, triggered visions of the stars, the moon, and space itself for her.

The burning, the riot, the sizzle, the closely held neurotic energy released all over her body as she had no thoughts, no questions, no plans—just pure feeling.

She collapsed onto him, out of energy, out of momentum, out of a plan. Her naked skin against his damp shirt, she shivered through aftershocks. He chuckled, his deep timbre vibrating through him, into her. She shivered again when she finally came around. His left thumb made lazy circles on her thigh, his right hands stroked her hair slowly. She raised her head to look at him, and she saw such unadulterated, unblemished love, she felt the need to roll off of him.

“I love you.” Casey whispered.

“I love you too Case.” Derek whispered, and Casey kissed him softly more chastely than she thought capable. “Are you cold?”

Casey nodded, thinking about how sticky she really was and how much that feeling really should bother her, but she was quite content being loved on his chest. He gestured with his head before rolling them both over along with the edge of a blanket.

“Burrito time,” she giggled. Derek rolled his eyes, but they both savored the moment, the quiet. It was the first time in a long time Casey noted: she had little to say. His hot breath against her neck, his comfortable weight, and his scruff rubbing against her cheek as he kissed her hair. The cotton of his work pants rubbed against her calf, and his hand found hers to squeeze it. The sun had almost set, the orange purple hues igniting the room around them, casting soft colored shadows into the blanket. Nothing to bother them, nothing to set anything off. Just love between them kept Derek and Casey silent.

“Do you have work to do?” Derek asked against her hair.

“It can wait. You?” Casey replied, and Derek thought for a moment.

“Wait, what time is it?” Derek scrambled his head over the blanket, and Casey gestured out the window to the setting sun. He tore off the blanket, to jump out, while Casey rolled back into the blanket.

“It’s freezing out there.”

“Dammit Case, I left a full inbox of emails because of that stunt you played earlier—”

  
“You didn’t have to—”

“Yes, yes I did.” Derek glared at her, and she huffed. “Let me send an email quick from here?” Derek waited for confirmation ( _oh my god he won’t use her stuff without asking, why didn’t she think dating him might house break him?!?!?_ ), and she nodded.

Casey turned over, closing her eyes. She got it, everything she had been planning for, everything she yearned for—it happened, and it happened in the most absolutely satisfying way. She heard Derek flop down onto her desk chair and flip open her screen.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING STEP BROOO?” blasted from her computer. Casey’s eyes shot open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end! I can't believe I finished. I'm so impressed with myself--y'all should be impressed with yourself too because we made it here.
> 
> This has been such a labor of love and admiration for the rest of the community here. I have been reading through Dasey for years and years, so anything you think I did well here, I did as a result of reading and stealing the behaviors, writing considerations, and implied thoughts because all readers do! I appreciate their contributions, and I want you all to show everyone else the love you have been showing me!!! The discord, in particular, really pushed me in such a rewarding, creative way, so thank you to everyone there for being such a positive group of folks.
> 
> I have a couple of hot takes--you know the drill:  
> -ending on a joke? so original.  
> -I hope Casey lives down all the embarrassing shit she did today, but Derek is "the saddest sap in the whole world"  
> -Emily is the MVP of this fic and if you disagree with me, I don't care! (Carla/Sam/NASIM honorable mention)  
> -Will there be more stories of this world? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...  
> -I don't have anything else to say, but I guess I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> I am sending the biggest shoutout to my beta - 04Jetta!!! What an incredible human, being willing to cross fandoms to read through my work and pick up on every single little grammar mistake. I seriously suck at catching grammar mistakes, so kudos to them. Please round of applause!!! 
> 
> Finally, it may be another year before I post anything--please don't anticipate anything from me. There is nothing to look forward to!


End file.
